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Updated: May 20, 2025
"Say, wotcher mean drillin' round dis town in some kinder funny riggin' wit'out no plunder on you? I gotta right to belt you one acrost the bean." "I'd rather you didn't do that," protested Mr. Leary in all seriousness. "If if you'd only give me your address I could send you some money in the morning to pay you for your trouble " "Cut out de kiddin'," broke in the disgusted marauder.
Bending over a box upon which rested a canvas-bound package was a burly seaman engaged in unknotting the twine with which the canvas was kept in place. As Sin Sin Wa and Sir Lucien came in he looked up, revealing a red-bearded, ugly face, very puffy under the eyes. "Wotcher, Sin Sin!" he said gruffly. "Who's your long pal?" "Friend," murmured Sin Sin Wa complacently.
Melican boy no Pilat!" said the little Chinaman, substituting "l's" for "r's" after his usual fashion. "Wotcher say?" said Hickory, reddening with sudden confusion. "Melican boy's papa heap lickee him spose him leal Pilat," continued Wan Lee, doggedly. "Melican boy Pilat inside housee; Chinee boy Pilat outside housee. First chop Pilat."
As they passed over a little railway station, innocent, as usual, of any suspicion of a platform, with a box set up as waiting-room, one of the men in the section of fours behind him stumbled heavily over the single lines. "Nah then, Bill, wotcher doing to New Street Station?"
Thank Gawd somebody's still the right stuff!" Suddenly, from a bunk on the left of Gaston Max came a faint cry. "Ah! He has bitten me!" "'Ullo!" said Bill "wotcher bin given' 'im, Pidgin? Chandu or hydrerphobia?" Ah-Fang-Fu crossed and handed him the pipe. "One piecee pipee. No more hab." Bill grasped the pipe eagerly and raised it to his lips.
"Ain't drunk!" said the soldier. "Wotcher chuck my spoon at 'im for, then? 'E ain't done you no 'arm." "Yus 'e 'as," was the soldier's surprising retort. "No 'e ain't." "Yus 'e 'as." "No 'e 'ain't. 'E ain't done you no 'arm." The soldier fixed the derelict with a fierce glare. "Yus you 'ave," he reiterated.
Tom Brian!" muttered Dunbar aside to Sowerby. "Wotcher say, guv'nor?" inquired the cabman, looking from one to the other. "I say, no doubt you can save us the trouble of looking out Brian's license, and give us his private address?" replied Dunbar. "Course I can. 'E lives hat num'er 36 Forth Street, Brixton, and 'e's out o' the big Brixton depot." "Oh!" said Dunbar, dryly.
It'll make the hair stand up on the back of his neck fer a starter." "Aw, ferget it!" replied another voice. "Can the tee-ayter stunt! Clarie leaves the front door unfastened, don't he? An' dey'll be in dere in a minute now. Wotcher want ter do? Crab the game? He might hear us an' fix Clarie before we had a chanst, the skinny old fox! An' dere's the light now see!
Often, when, for instance, one man was sent away from one 'job' to another, the others would go into his room and look at the work he had been doing, and pick out all the faults they could find and show them to each other, making all sorts of ill-natured remarks about the absent one meanwhile. 'Jist run yer nose over that door, Jim, one would say in a tone of disgust. 'Wotcher think of it?
He wrenched his arm free with an oath, remembering that she was the cause of his fight and defeat. "Wot the 'ell are yous doin' 'ere? Go an' tell yer bloke I nearly got lumbered." "I ain't got no bloke," sobbed Pinkey. "Wotcher mean?" cried Chook. "I don't run after people I don't want," said Pinkey, smiling through her tears. "Fair dinkum?" cried Chook.
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