Master Mike Waters. "Crikey, Bill!"
Master Bill Sims. "Well; Wot?"
Master Jim Curtis. "My eye, Bill, wot a swell we are!"
Bill. "Wot d'ye mean? I dessay you think yourself very clever,—don't yer now?"
Jim. "I say, Bill, do your keep that 'ere collar button'd ven you has yer grub?"
Bill. "Wot odds?"
Jim. "That 'ere letter of yourn's post-haste, I s'pose, Bill?"
Bill. "Do yer? How long have them muffins bin 'All Hot? '"
Jim. "As long agin as half. I 'll bet you I know who that letter's for." Bill. "I 'll bet yer you don't!"
Mike. "My eye! what a plummy tile!"