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But he's given me lots of things, besides my ring. I'm to have a real silver belt a Russian next birthday." "I sy, he's orf'ly good to you, you know. Some gentlemen get so careless once they're sure of you. D'you know, we all think you acted so honourable, giving out your engagement as soon as it was on. When do you think you'll be married?" "I can't say. I don't know yet.
He reeled a little, and Gilbert caught hold of him again. "I woul'n be a young chap," he muttered, "not for ... not for nothink. You ... you're a young chap, ain't you? Yesh you are! You needn't tell me you ain't! I can see as wellsh anythink! You're a young chap ri' enough. Well ... well, Gawd, 'elp you, young feller! Thash all I got to sy ... subjec! Goo-ni', gen'lemen!"
Well, as I was sayin', your father 'e used ter sy, "None of your small families for me, I don't approve of them," says 'e. 'E was a man of very 'igh principles, an' by politics 'e was a Radical. "No," says 'e, when 'e got talkin', "when a man can 'ave a family risin' into double figures, it shows 'e's got the backbone of a Briton in 'im. That's the stuff as 'as built up England's nime and glory!
"Well," said the boy, "it's only a theory, o' course, but I should sy, from the look of 'er, that she wanted to be milked." "But it started bellowing at half-past two," I argued. "It doesn't expect to be milked at half-past two, does it?" "Meself," said the boy, "I've given up looking for sense in cows." In some unaccountable way this boy was hypnotising me.
As your poor dear father used ter sy, it shows as 'ow one's got the blood of a Briton in one. Your poor dear father, 'e was a great 'and at speakin' 'e was: 'e used ter speak at parliamentary meetin's I really believe 'e'd 'ave been a Member of Parliament if 'e'd been alive now.
I was thet dahn in the dumps well, I shouldn't 'ave cared if I'd been at the bottom of the river, an' thet's the truth. 'You don't sy so, replied her affectionate mother. 'Yus, I do, an' I mean it too, but I don't feel like thet now. You're right, mother, when you're in trouble there's nothin' like a bit of spirits.
'Well, I'll tike yer. 'You? 'Yus; why not? 'I like thet; wot would yer missus sy? 'She wouldn't know. 'But the neighbours would! 'No they wouldn't, no one 'd see us. He was speaking in a low voice so that people could not hear. 'You could meet me ahtside the theatre, he went on. 'Na, I couldn't go with you; you're a married man. 'Garn! wot's the matter jest ter go ter the ply?
Forty-five; and young for your age. THE ARCHBISHOP. My age is two hundred and eighty-three. Mad, am I? BURGE-LUBIN. Youre both mad. Excuse me, Archbishop; but this is getting a bit well As a hypothesis? BURGE-LUBIN. What is a hypothesis? CONFUCIUS. It does not matter. BURGE-LUBIN. Met Emp Sy Good Lord! What a brain, Confucius! What a brain! THE ARCHBISHOP. Nothing of that kind.
"Well, as it seems so important, I my sy I'm going out to Salonika next week, and that's why I want this business settled." She stopped, and as the committee remained diffidently and apprehensively silent, she went on: "It isn't as if I was the only one. Why!
Dean at once, and, taking off the upper shawl with a fussy gesture, she settled herself for a chat. "Yes, thank heaven, Sy is well. I don't know what would become of us if she wasn't. It has been a hard and sorrowful year for us with Mr. Dean's business embarrassments, my feeble health, and May's death.
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