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Updated: May 18, 2025
A slight change in quoting the above passage, unintentionally made, favors his view; "Or that Cicero should have been proscribed by him," he says, turning "ullo" into "illo." The meaning of the passage seems to be, that it was sad that Cæsar should have been forced to yield, or that any one should have been there to force him.
It was followed by a short bull neck and a heavy pair of shoulders in a shirt of dirty grey flannel; and having emerged so far, the apparition paused for a look around. It was the steersman of yesterday afternoon. "'Ullo, below there!" Tilda hailed him. "'Ullo yerself!" The man looked up and blinked. "W'y, if you ain't the gel and boy?" "Where's Bill?" she asked, cutting him short. "Bill?"
He broke off suddenly and, turning round, gazed with some heat at a gentleman who was endeavouring to ascertain whether an umbrella would pass through him. The investigator backed hastily into the crowd again, and a faint murmur of surprise arose as the indignant Mr. Blows rubbed the place. "He's alive, I tell you," said a voice. "What cheer, Jack!" "Ullo, Bill," said Mr. Blows, genially.
Christopher sprang up and rushed forward, then suddenly stopped. "Ullo, mother, didn't know as 'ow you 'ad swell company this arternoon. I'd 'ave put on my best suit and topper," he grinned affably as he deposited on the floor a big basket he carried. "Oh, I say, Sam don't you know me either?" began poor Christopher.
The town tailing off into weather-board boxes with tin tops, and old bark huts relics of the digging days propped up by many rotting poles. The men, when at home, mostly asleep or droning over their pipes or hanging about the verandah posts of the pubs., saying, ''Ullo, Bill! or ''Ullo, Jim! or sometimes drunk.
He broke off suddenly and, turning round, gazed with some heat at a gentleman who was endeavouring to ascertain whether an umbrella would pass through him. The investigator backed hastily into the crowd again, and a faint murmur of surprise arose as the indignant Mr. Blows rubbed the place. "He's alive, I tell you," said a voice. "What cheer, Jack!" "Ullo, Bill," said Mr. Blows, genially.
Next day Bill turned up with the missing horse and saw Jim standing against a veranda-post of the Carriers' Arms, with his hat down over his eyes, and thoughtfully spitting in the dust. Bill rode over to him. "'Ullo, Jim." "'Ullo, Bill. I see you got him." "Yes, I got him." Pause. "Where'd yer find him?" "'Bout ten mile back. Near Ford's Bridge. He was just feedin' along." Pause.
The only man who really suffered was the base materialist. Two hours later he rolled up for his dinner, in a mood even more uncommunicative than usual. "'Ullo, Nobby," remarked the cook affably, "you don't seem yer usual chatty self this morning. An' wot 'ave you got on your neck?" "Less of it," returned the other morosely. "It's Hepping Forest.
It's this everlasting worry and flurry day in and day out, and not knowing what's going to 'appen next, and one man coming in and saying 'Vote for Bruce', and another 'Vote for Pedder', and another saying how it's the poor man's loaf he's fighting for if he'd only buy a loaf, now 'ullo, 'ullo, wot's this?"
Thank Gawd somebody's still the right stuff!" Suddenly, from a bunk on the left of Gaston Max came a faint cry. "Ah! He has bitten me!" "'Ullo!" said Bill "wotcher bin given' 'im, Pidgin? Chandu or hydrerphobia?" Ah-Fang-Fu crossed and handed him the pipe. "One piecee pipee. No more hab." Bill grasped the pipe eagerly and raised it to his lips.
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