Second Boy. Lots on 'em.
Third Boy. Which on em' do you want, Mr. Cricket?
Fourth Boy. You ain't peticlar, I s'pose, old corner-bones?
First Boy. Don't you fret, old stilts. We'll find you a Mattie. There's plenty on 'em—all nice gals.
Tho. I want mo own Mattie.
First Boy. Why, you'd never tell one from t'other on 'em!
Third Boy. All on 'em wery glad to see old Daddy Longlegs!
Tho. Oh dear! Oh dear! What an awful plaze this Lon'on do be! To see the childer so bad!
Second Boy. Don't cry, gran'pa. She'd chaff you worser 'n us! We're only poor little innocent boys. We don't know nothink, bless you! Oh no!
First Boy. You'd better let her alone, arter all, bag o' nails.