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Updated: June 7, 2025
If I go into Lady Binsis hopra box, she makes room for me, who ever is there, and cries out, 'O do make room for that dear creature! And she complyments me on my taste in musick, or my new Broom-oss, or the phansy of my weskit, and always ends by asking me for some shares.
'There's been a naccydent, says the Missus: 'but thank the Lord the vittles is cold! 'Maybe he've forgot the day, says the Vicar; 'but any way, we'll give en another ha'f-hour's grace an' then set-to, says he, takin' pity on the noises old Truslove was makin' inside his weskit. . . . So said, so done. At two-thirty service bein' fixed for ha'f-after-three they all fell to work.
"Do you think so?" said I. "Ah, that I do w'at might be the cost of a weskit the like o' that, now?" "I paid forty shillings for it, in the Haymarket, in London, scarcely a week ago," I answered. The fellow very slowly closed one eye at the same time striking his nose three successive raps with his forefinger: "Gammon!" said he. "None the less, it's true," said I.
'Twon't carry me off afore I get inside, an' I'm going in decent, or not at all. Come here, an' let me tittivate you." He sat down beside her, and submitted to be dusted. "You'd as lief lower me as not in their eyes, I verily believe." "I always was one to gather dust." "An' a fresh spot o' bacon-fat 'pon your weskit, that I've kept the moths from since goodness knows when!"
Why, I'd have a noo thick weskit, a plush un, before the winter come a red un like his'n," and he nodded towards the robin. "Bah! Nonsense!" "Nay, it ar'n't, lad. Them red uns are strange and warm, and lies down like feathers. Then there's boots.
"Say rather the worst!" "'Ere's a nice, big 'ole in the coat, sir," said Mr. Brimberly, unfolding the garment in question, "and the weskit, sir; the pocket is tore, you'll notice, sir." "Excellent, Brimberly!" "As for these trousis, sir " "They seem rather superior garments, I'm afraid!" said Mr. Ravenslee, shaking his head. "But you'll notice as they're very much wore round the 'eels, sir."
He wasn't at the coffee-shop for dinner, neither. Peter and Ginger was in 'igh spirits, and, though Sam told 'em plain that he would sooner walk about with a couple of real pickpockets, they wouldn't leave 'im an inch. "Anybody could steal it off of you, Sam," ses Ginger, patting 'im on the weskit to make sure the locket was still there. "It's a good job you've got us to look arter you."
"Any man as would give forty shillin' for a garment as is no mortal good agen the cold not reachin' fur enough, even if it do be silk, an' all worked wi' little flowers is a dommed fool! "Assuredly!" said I, with a nod. "Howsomever," he continued, "it's a handsome weskit, there's no denyin', an' well worth a woman's lookin' at a proper man inside of it." "Not a doubt of it," said I.
Mind, I mean no offence; an' I don't doubt you ha' got somethink i' your weskit pocket as 'll turn it all topsy-turvy in a moment. Anyhow, I won't purtend to nothink, and that's how it look to me." "I admit," said Marion, "that the objection is a reasonable one. But why do you put it, Mr.
I can just mind Key Pinsent a great, red, rory-cumtory chap, with a high stock and a wig like King George 'my royal patron' he called 'en, havin' by some means got leave to hoist the king's arms over his door. Such mighty portly manners, too Oh, very spacious, I assure 'ee! Simme I can see the old Trojan now, with his white weskit bulgin' out across his doorway like a shop-front hung wi' jewels.
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