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Updated: August 14, 2024
"Money," he said, at last, resuming his wonted calm and lowering himself carefully to the box again "money always gets left to the wrong people; some of the kindest-'arted men I've ever known 'ave never had a ha'penny left 'em, while teetotaler arter teetotaler wot I've heard of 'ave come in for fortins." It's 'ard lines though, sometimes, waiting for other people's money.
And as for the kindest-'arted pal, why I've often heard you say " "H'sh!" ses Bill. "I didn't. I'll swear I didn't. I never thought of such a thing." "You turn over and go to sleep," ses his wife, "hiding your 'ead under the clothes like a child that's afraid o' the dark! There's nothing there, I tell you. Wot next will you see, I wonder? Last time it was a pink rat."
"Money," he said, at last, resuming his wonted calm and lowering himself carefully to the box again "money always gets left to the wrong people; some of the kindest-'arted men I've ever known 'ave never had a ha'penny left 'em, while teetotaler arter teetotaler wot I've heard of 'ave come in for fortins." It's 'ard lines though, sometimes, waiting for other people's money.
And as for the kindest-'arted pal, why I've often heard you say " "H'sh!" ses Bill. "I didn't. I'll swear I didn't. I never thought of such a thing." "You turn over and go to sleep," ses his wife, "hiding your 'ead under the clothes like a child that's afraid o' the dark! There's nothing there, I tell you. Wot next will you see, I wonder? Last time it was a pink rat."
When I think of the trouble I took to get it I come over quite faint. At last she told me, between 'er sobs, that 'is name was Mr. Kiddem, and that he lived at 27, Bridge Street. "'He's one o' the kindest-'arted and most generous men that ever lived, she ses; 'that's why my brother Harry 'as gone to 'im. And you needn't mind taking anything 'e likes to give you; he's rolling in money.
"Dreaming!" ses pore Bill, catching hold of her 'and and gripping it till she nearly screamed. "I wish I was. Can't you see it?" "See it?" ses his wife. "See wot?" "The ghost," ses Bill, in a 'orrible whisper; "the ghost of my dear, kind old pal, Silas Winch. The best and noblest pal a man ever 'ad. The kindest-'arted " "Rubbish," ses Mrs. Burtenshaw. "You've been dreaming.
"Dreaming!" ses pore Bill, catching hold of her 'and and gripping it till she nearly screamed. "I wish I was. Can't you see it?" "See it?" ses his wife. "See wot?" "The ghost," ses Bill, in a 'orrible whisper; "the ghost of my dear, kind old pal, Silas Winch. The best and noblest pal a man ever 'ad. The kindest-'arted " "Rubbish," ses Mrs. Burtenshaw. "You've been dreaming.
When I think of the trouble I took to get it I come over quite faint. At last she told me, between 'er sobs, that 'is name was Mr. Kiddem, and that he lived at 27, Bridge Street. "'He's one o' the kindest-'arted and most generous men that ever lived, she ses; 'that's why my brother Harry 'as gone to 'im. And you needn't mind taking anything 'e likes to give you; he's rolling in money.
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