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Updated: June 7, 2025
She had a sudden inward vision of herself living in Treeless Street. A little crowd of interested children had gathered. One, bolder than the rest, had drawn unpleasantly close, and was smoothing Gloria's soft white dress with timid little fingers. Gloria wondered why she did not draw away, but stood still instead. "Are youse a doctor-woman? W'ere's yer bag? Yer ain't t'rew yer bag away?" "Huh!
His eyes dwelled upon him with a strange avidity, as though he would read into his soul; and presently the sleeper moved, stirred uneasily, turned suddenly round, and threw him a blinking look. Davis maintained the same dark stare, and Huish looked away again and sat up. "Lord, I've an 'eadache on me!" said he. "I believe I was a bit swipey last night. W'ere's that cry-byby 'Errick?"
"I'll never get this fellow to understand," said Fred. "Meetuck, my boy, come here and explain to him." "Ho, Meetuck!" shouted Peter Grim, "give this old blockhead a taste o' your lingo. I never met his match for stupidity." "I do believe that this rascal wants the 'ole of this ball o' twine for the tusk of a sea-'oss. Meetuck! w'ere's Meetuck!
"I'll never get this fellow to understand," said Fred. "Meetuck, my boy, come here and explain to him." "Ho! Meetuck," shouted Peter Grim, "give this old blockhead a taste o' your lingo, I never met his match for stupidity." "I do believe that this rascal wants the 'ole of this ball o' twine for the tusk of a sea-'oss. Meetuck! w'ere's Meetuck?
"Hi, w'ere's yer ticket?" that fierce female cried, and M'riar showed it to her, weakly, scarcely caring whether it entitled her to passage or condemned her to expulsion from the ship by a sharp toss overside. "Garn in there," said the stewardess, studying the ticket and its bearer's symptoms simultaneously. "S'y, yer goin' ter be a nice sweet passenger to 'ave hon board, now 'yn't yer?"
Me an' Florette was ole friends, see? No foolishness, if you know what I mean. I'm a married man myse'f Bowers there on the card's my wife but me an' Florette met about five years ago, an' kep' on runnin' on to one another on the bill, first one place an' then another. So she was glad to see me again, an' me her. 'W'y, w'ere's Freddy? I says, first thing.
W'en the toes are 'urt the nerves sends word up to the brain jest like the telegraph. Then father 'e ponders aw'ile. 'W'ere's them nerves, doctor? sez 'e. 'In the toes. 'In the toes? Then w'en them toes is gone them nerves is gone, hain't they? 'Yes. 'But the nerve feelin' is ther' still. This puzzles father some.
"Oh, Père Jerome! mo pas conné, I dunno. You know w'ere's dad 'ouse of Miché Jean Tomkin? Mo courri 'ci, mo courri l
"Out o' coal," hazarded Galton, "that's w'y she harsn't got back no sooner." "W'ere's 'er sails, then?" "A tug couldn't do nothin' with sails she isn't made for sails!" "It ain't w'ot ye're made for, hit's w'ot ye can git in this blarsted sea!" "Maybe 'er machin'ry's broke?" "Maybe they're hall sick?" "Or dead?" "Maybe " Madden hurried to his cabin and returned with binoculars.
"'Ave you got yer wills made out, you lads? You're a-go'n' to see a scrap presently, an' it ain't a-go'n' to be no flea-bite, I give you my word!" "Right you are, sergeant! I'm leavin' me razor to 'is Majesty. 'Ope 'e'll tyke the 'int." "Strike me pink, sergeant! You gettin' cold feet?" "Less sing 'im, 'I want to go 'ome. Get 'im to cryin' like a baby." "W'ere's yer mouth-organ, Ginger?"
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