[218c] I’ll show you about, brother; I’m selling skewers.
[219] The fact of Ryley having at his death a caravan, pony, carpets, curtains, blankets, mirrors, china, crockery, metal pots and dishes, &c., seems hardly, in my mind, to be in accord with his doing no work for years, smoking under railroad arches and loitering about beershops. I expect, if the truth were known, the whole of his furniture and stock-in-trade could have been placed upon a wheelbarrow.