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Updated: June 5, 2025
He entered the new tenement with the firm conviction that he had been swindled in the rent which he had paid, "cash in advance," and, that night, was very gloomy. So, also, were the bewildered Anna and M'riar. "Hi sye, Miss," said M'riar, when they were alone, while the flute-player went out for the supper, "wot'll that young toff think, comin' back an' findin' yer gone orf from there?"
By the time dinner was over and more dishes ready to be washed, the cook's wounded pride was under control. Her few tears had left no marks on her face. Babe, helping her, did not even know that there had been a shower. Babe was excited; her chewing was more energetic even than usual. It smacked audibly. "Say, Sheila, wot'll you wear to-night?" she yelled above the clatter.
"Ye're only kiddin'," said Chook, cheerfully; "an' wot'll 'e do ter yous?" "Me! 'E niver rouses on me. W'en 'e gits shirty, I just laugh, an' 'e can't keep it up." "Right-oh!" said Chook. "Look out fer a song an' dance nex' Sunday." About five o'clock on the following Sunday afternoon, Chook, beautifully attired in the larrikin fashion, sauntered up to the door and tried the knocker.
He was whiskerly, whiskyly, fleshily formidable. So, Black Riley temporized. "Wot'll you take for it, den?" he asked. "Money," said Fuzzy, with husky firmness, "cannot buy her." He was intoxicated with the artist's first sweet cup of attainment.
"But it sounded such an extraordinary thing, a Tube, when I read about it that I expected to see something different," John continued. "Well, it is an extraordinary thing," the man said. "You walk down them steps there, an' get into a lift, an' wot'll 'appen to you? You'll be dropped 'undreds of feet into the earth, an' when you get ta the bottom, you'll find trains runnin' by electricity.
"But the great pint is that you an' 'e is a-goin' to be man an' wife, an' I'm right glad to 'ear it, for it's a lonely life ye've been leadin' since yer father's death, forbye ye've got a bit o' company in old David. An' wot'll ye do with David when you're married?" "He'll stay on with us, I hope," said Mary. "But this morning he has gone away and we don't know where he can have gone to." Mrs.
"Well, you are a queer codger," said Jarwin, laughing in spite of himself; "if ever there was a man as didn't feel up to singin', that's me at this moment. Howsomedever, I 'spose it must be done. Wot'll you 'ave? `Ben Bolt, `Black-eyed Susan, `The Jolly Young Waterman, `Jim Crow, `There is a Happy Land, or the `Old Hundred, eh? Only say the word, an' I'll turn on the steam."
"Look here!" ses the skipper, speaking very slow, "I've got an idea, wot'll settle it p'raps. You get outside," he ses, turning sharp on the two little boys. One o' the draymen 'elped 'em to go out, and 'arf a minute arterwards a stone came over the gate and cut the potman's lip open. Boys will be boys. "Now!" ses the skipper, turning to the woman, and smiling with conceitedness.
So I wint and had another in the nixt shop I sees, jist to try; and it was thrue. Then a Yankee spies my knife, the great pig-sticker that Bob Short swopped wi' me for my junk o' plum-duff off the Cape. It seems they've run out o' sich articles just at this time, and would give handfuls o' goold for wan. So says I, `Wot'll ye give? "`Three dollars, I guess, says wan.
In reply, he scorned circumlocution, saying briefly: "Wot'll it come to? Wot are you good for? That's the p'int." "You tell me no lies and you'll see. There's an old widow-lady down this Court. Don't you go and say there ain't!" "There's any number. Which old widder?" "Name of Daverill. Old enough to be your father's granny." "No sich a name!
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