“Haven’t yo’ a pig?”
“Ay, well when th’ pig’s fed of course.”
“Yo’re one o’ th’ Watch an’ Ward. Where’s your staff?”
“By th’ looking glass there, with th’ lash an’ comb; oh! dear, oh! dear.”
John Walker pocketed the constable’s staff. “Where’s your gun?”
“I’ th’ chamber.”
“Fetch it, No. 20.”
And Soldier Jack hopped up the stairs, and we heard a shrill shriek and a cry of “Murder! Thieves!” and then Jack limped down again, whilst Mrs. S——— stood at the stair–head and hurled threats and bad language at his back.
“Where’s th’ key o’ th’ mill door,” went on George, as cool as if he were eating his dinner.
“Oh! dear, oh! dear, you surely winnot harm th’ frame’s. They’n cost me a hundred and fifty pound apiece, an’ I owe to th’ bank for ’em yet.”