Mr. J. Drink, vill you? don’t you understand Hinglish?
Green. Eh! drink—quite a gemman, I declare.—(While Green drinks Jenkins dances, expectantly).
Ragged Jack. I say, Jenkins has larned to dance since he’s been on the Mill—vy Jenkins you’ll dance your calves into your shoes if you don’t mind.
Mr. J. (To Green, looking at pot). Vy, I say, you’ve been eating red herrings for dinner, my young un!
Green. I vas dry, and that’s the fact on’t.
Billy. (Offering bottle to Sue). I say, Misses, you drink, eh! my Buckra Beaudly?
Jemmy. Gemman, have you ordered the peck and booze for the evening?
Sold. Suke. Aye, aye, I’ve taken care of that—shoulder of veal and garnish—Turkey and appendleges—Parmesan—Filberds—Port and Madery.
Billy. Dat dam goot, me like a de Madery—Landlord, here you give this bag of broken wittals, vot I had give me to-day, to some genteel dog vot pass your door: and you make haste wid de supper, you curse devil you!