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Updated: June 10, 2025
Yours, M. N." "Dollops, my lad, I think I'm going to make a man of you," he said as he tore the letter into a dozen pieces and tossed the fragments into a waste-basket. "At any rate, I'm going to have a try. Know anything about Richmond?" "Yuss, sir." "Good.
"But vere's a chap 'ere wot sore 'er fice to fice in the next street; an' followed 'er and 'eard the door go; an' w'en 'e come back wiv 'is pals, vere was vat light." "Let's 'ave 'er aht of it." "Yuss, she ain't no right there." "No; the condemned cell's the plice for 'er!" "Give us a stone afore the copper comes!"
I'm goin' ter 'ave a job ashore." He turned to us. "No more bloomin' sea fur me," he said, aloud. All looked at him. He had better clothes, had an easy air, appeared more at home than any of us; he stared with assurance, enjoying the effect of his declaration. "Yuss. I 'ave friends well off. That's more'n you got. But I am a man. Yer shipmates for all that. Who's comin fur a drink?" No one moved.
While he was exploring the fox-runs among the thick stems of the grass Mr. Beale lay at full length and pondered. "I don't more'n 'arf like it," he said to himself. "Ho yuss. I know that's wot I got him for all right. But 'e's such a jolly little nipper. I wouldn't like anything to 'appen to 'im, so I wouldn't."
A body don't have a minute to call his own since it's been put in," he blurted out disgustedly, and answered the call. "'Ullo! Yuss; this is Cap'n Burbage's. Wot? No, he aren't in. Dunno when he will be. Dunno where he is. But if there's any messidge I say, who wants him? Wot? Oh, s'elp me. You, is it, Mr. Narkom? Yuss, it's me, sir Dollops. Wot? No, sir. Went out two hours ago.
Krill, bless her, oh, yuss, Mrs. Krill, the sneakin', smiling Jezebel." "Did she see Sylvia?" asked Beecot, sharply. "Yuss, she did," admitted Deborah, "me lettin' her in not knowin' her scratchin's. An' the monkey an' the kitting come too a-spyin' out the land as you may say. W'en I 'eard the noos I 'owled Mr.
A smile curled round Paul's lips at the comic idea of giving his mother unsolicited information. "Barney Bill?" said he. "Yuss," said the man. Then, after a pause, "What are you doing of there?" "Reading," said Paul. "Let's have a look at it." Paul regarded him suspiciously; but there was kindliness in the twinkling glance. He handed him the sorry apology for a book. Barney Bill turned it over.
Won the Brighton Beach overnight sweepstakes in nineteen an' four. Ho, yuss. Just a little off his oats, but a bloomin' good 'orse." Garrison turned, speaking mechanically. "I wonder do you think I'm a fool! Sysonby himself won the Brighton sweepstakes in nineteen-four. It was the beginning of his racing career, and an easy win. This animal here is a plug; an out-and-out plug of the first water.
God knows how you learned the game I don't. But know it you do. Nor do I pretend to know how you understand the filly. I don't understand it at all. It must be a freak of nature." "Ho, yuss!" added Crimmins quietly, his eye on the silent Garrison. "Ho, yuss! It must be a miracle. But I tell you, major, it ain't no miracle. It ain't. That boy 'as earned 'is class. 'E could understand any 'orse.
"Yuss," said Dickie, exaggerating his lameness in the most spirited way. It was acting, you see, and all children love acting. Mr. Beale went more and more slowly, and as the lady and the little girl drew near he stopped altogether and touched his cap. Dickie, quick to imitate, touched his. "Could you spare a trifle, mum," said Beale, very gently and humbly, "to 'elp us along the road?
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