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Updated: June 16, 2025
Beg your parding, sir," she added, to the seaman, "the boy 'an't got no sense, besides bein' wicked and naughty 'e ain't 'ad no train', sir, that's w'ere it is, all along of my 'avin' too much to do, an' a large family, sir, with no 'usband to speak of; right up the stair, sir, to the top, and along the passage-door straight before you at the hend of it. Mind the step, sir, w'en you gits up.
Mrs Bones and the child recognised him at once, and half rose. "Keep still!" said Bones, in a low savage growl, which was but too familiar to his poor wife and child. "Now, look here," he continued in the same voice, laying down his pipe, "if either of you two tell man, woman, or child w'ere George Aspel is, it'll be the death of you both, and of him too."
"W'en I stay long time in Canada I come back to this country to Minnesota. I go to Duluth, w'ere I hav' ol' frien'. I spen' two days by him an' talk about many t'ings w'ich 'appen to us long ago w'en we hunt together.
He never interfered with the acts of his fellow-servants, except in so far as those acts affected his master's comfort; and he paid no attention to their words except where they affected himself. "When you think it's a ghost, it's only Krool wanderin' w'ere he ain't got no business," was the angry remark of the upper-housemaid, whom his sudden appearance had startled in a dim passage one day.
Perks sat down heavily in the elbow-chair and looked at them with what Bobbie afterwards described as withering glances of gloomy despair. "So you've been round telling the neighbours we can't make both ends meet? Well, now you've disgraced us as deep as you can in the neighbourhood, you can just take the whole bag of tricks back w'ere it come from. Very much obliged, I'm sure.
"O, Roby? ah," returned the small boy, looking sedately at the ground, "let me see yes, that's the name of the old 'ooman, I think, wot 'angs out in the cabin, right-'and stair, top floor, end of the passage, w'ere most wisiters flattens their noses, by consekince of there bein' no light, and a step close to the door which inwariably trips 'em up.
I took yer out of the factory, I married yer, an' worked day an' night ter git on in the world, an' that's yer thanks. Pity I didn't leave yer in the gutter w'ere yer belonged. I wonder who yer take after? Not after yer mother. She is clean an' wholesome. Any other woman would take an interest in my business, an' be a help to a man; but you're like a millstone round my neck.
"Mais, w'at de matter, Posson Jone'?" "My sins, Jools, my sins!" "Ah! Posson Jone', is that something to cry, because a man get sometime a litt' bit intoxicate? "Jools, Jools, your eyes is darkened oh! Jools, where's my pore old niggah?" "Posson Jone', never min'; he is wid Baptiste." "Where?" "I don' know w'ere mais he is wid Baptiste. Baptiste is a beautiful to take care of somebody."
"W'ere the 'ell am I?" he muttered, like a man awaking from a dream. "What's this? You've been fighting," said the policeman. "Me? No fear," growled Chook. "I was walkin' along, quiet as a lamb, when a bloke come up an' landed me on the jaw." "Well, who was he?" asked the policeman. "I dunno. I never set eyes on 'im before," said Chook, lying without hesitation to their common enemy, the police.
You got to stop every minute, they's so much traffic along that trench. Go down Stanley Road about five 'unnerd yards, turn off to yer left on Essex Alley, then yer first right. Brings you right out by the 'ouse w'ere the pump is." "'Ere's a straight tip! Send yer water fatigue down early in the mornin': three o'clock at the latest.
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