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Updated: June 10, 2025
"'Cause I went to the shorp in th' mornin' to sell the brooch to th' ole man. He was a goner, so I cut to Mr. Pash, as wos his lawyer, and said I'd sell 'im the brooch." "What?" cried Hurd, rising. "You gave the brooch to Mr. Pash?" "Yuss. He said he'd 'ave me up for stealin', and wouldn't guv me even a bob fur it. But he said I'd be his noo orfice boy. I thought I'd be respectable, so I went.
"Ah," said Miss Junk, luxuriously, "I've taught you to, in quite a genteel way. What a scrubby little brat you were, Bart!" "Yuss," said Mr. Tawsey, eating rapidly. "I saw myself to-day." "In a looking-glarse?" "Lor', Debby no. But there wos a brat all rags and dirty face and sauce as I was when you saw me fust. He come into the shop as bold as brass and arsked fur a book.
We charges in a single line, you know, knee to knee, as close together as us can get, riding low so as to present as small a target as we can." "And you got home with the Uhlans?" I asked. "Once. Their lances ain't much good except for lightin' street-lamps." "Street-lamps?" said the chaplain literally. "Yuss. They're too long. The blighters 'ave no grip on them.
I'm usin' a an anatomical expression now, sir her knee this, sir" slapping of knee with horny hand of toil "The ship's knees, miss," addressing Damaris, whose straight brows had almost met in puzzlement, "is a chock on the forepart of the lowermast on which the 'eel heel, miss, of the topmast rests. Yuss, sir. Her knee may 'ave water in it; but no one couldn't say the same of her grog."
A noise of singing and shouting came from the little parlour at the back, and when the chaplain asked for Mr Mosk, he was informed by the smiling Ganymede that 'th' guv'nor was injiyin' of hisself, and goin' on like one o'clock. 'Dear! dear! said the scandalised chaplain, 'am I to understand that your master has taken more than is good for him? 'Yuss; he's jist drunk up to jollyness, sir.
"My farver's there awaitin' for me." "Garn!" said the man; "you don't kid me so easy." "I ain't arstin' you for anything except the way," said Dickie. "More you ain't," said the man, hesitated, and pulled his hand out of his pocket. "Ain't kiddin'? Sure? Father at Gravesend? Take your Bible?" "Yuss," said Dickie.
'D'you think we ought to st'y at 'ome and wash the dishes? He laughed with good-natured shrewdness. 'Well, if they'd leave it to us once or twice per'aps we'd understand a little more about the Woman Question. I know w'y my wife isn't here. It's because she knows I can't cook, and she's 'opin' I can talk to some purpose. Yuss, he acknowledged another possible view, 'yuss, maybe she's mistaken.
I don't say that they're wrong. But I likes laylock." "What's laylock?" asked Paul. His friend explained. No lilac bloomed in the blighted Springs of Bludston. "Does it smell sweet?" "Yuss. So does the may and the syringa and the new-mown hay and the seaweed. Never smelt any of 'em?" "No," sighed Paul, sensuously conscious of new and vague horizons. "I once smelled summat sweet," he said dreamily.
Then his speech seemed more peculiar than his manner, for he repeated my one word, only instead of pronouncing it yes, he turned it into yuss. He looked so comic and puzzled that I smiled, and the smile became a laugh. I was sorry directly after, because it seemed rude to one who had been very civil to me ever since we left Kingston Harbour.
"That don't sound as if they was un'appy, do it, sir?" said the porter's wife, coming in again at that moment with one of the managers, who was paying a "surprise visit" to the school. "No, indeed!" he answered heartily. "Well, boys, having a real good time, are you? That's right. Better being here than starving outside, isn't it?" "Oh yuss, sir, a deal better!" said Clem.
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