"Oh! I'm fly. You mean Jumping Jack, who was done last week, for heaving a peter from a drag. But you talked of padding the hoof. Why, sure, Jack had a rattler and a prad?"
"Yes, but they were spotted by the harmans, and so we walked Spanish."
"Was he nabbed on the scent?"
"No, his pal grew leaky and cackled."
"Well, Bell, here's the bingo—sluice your gob! But who was the cull that peached?"
"A slubber de gullion named Harry Long, who wanted to pass for an out-and-out cracksman, though he was merely a diver."
"Whew! I know the kiddy like a copper, and saved him once from lumping the lighter by putting in buck. Why, he scarcely knows a jimmy from a round robin, and Jack deserved the tippet for making a lay with him, as all coves of his kidney blow the gab. But how did you hare it to Romeville, Bell, for I suppose the jets cleaned you out?"
"I kidded a swell in a snoozing-ken, and shook him of his dummy and thimble."
"Ah! Bell! you were always the blowen for a rum bing."
"It was no great quids, Jim—only six flimseys and three beans. But I'm flush of the balsam now, for I dance balum-rancum for the bens."