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'There's been a lady at our place to-day, Miss Dorrit, Plornish growled, 'and another one along with her as is a old wixen if ever I met with such. The way she snapped a person's head off, dear me! The mild Plornish was at first quite unable to get his mind away from Mr F.'s Aunt. 'For, said he, to excuse himself, 'she is, I do assure you, the winegariest party.
There's grais an' mylas can dick mullos by the ratti; an' yeckorus I had a grai that was trasher 'dree a tem langs the rikkorus of a drum, pash a boro park where a mush had been mullered. He prastered a mee pauli, but pash a cheirus he welled apopli to the wardos. A chinned jucko or a wixen can hunt mullos.
‘Vy don’t you pitch into her, Sarah?’ exclaims one half-dressed matron, by way of encouragement. ‘Vy don’t you? if my ’usband had treated her with a drain last night, unbeknown to me, I’d tear her precious eyes out—a wixen!’ ‘What’s the matter, ma’am?’ inquires another old woman, who has just bustled up to the spot. ‘Matter!’ replies the first speaker, talking at the obnoxious combatant, ‘matter!
She bust out about my stupid imparence; called Mary Hann a good for nothink creecher, and wep, and abewsd, and took on about her broken Chayny Bowl, a great deal mor than she did about a dear little Christian child. All in rewing through your stupiddaty, you brute, you! "'Bring your haction aginst the Great Western, Maam, says I, quite riled by this crewel and unfealing hold wixen.
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