Costermonger (to extremely genteel person).—"I say,
guv'ner, give us a hist with this 'ere bilin' o' greens!' (A large
hamper of market stuff.)
Genteel Cockney (by the seaside).—Blanche. "How
grand, how solemn, dear Frederick, this is! I really think the ocean
is more beautiful under this aspect than under any other!"
Frederick.—"H'm—ah! Per-waps. By the way, Blanche, there's
a fella shwimping. S'pose we ask him if he can get us some pwawns
for breakfast to-mowaw mawning?"
Stuck-up Cockney.—(Small Swell enters a tailor's shop.)
"A—Brown, A—want some more coats!" Snip. "Yes, sir. Thank
you, sir. How many would you please to want?" Small Swell.
"A—let me see; A—ll have eight. A—no, I'll have nine; and look
here! A—shall want some trousers." Snip. "Yes, sir, thank
you, sir. How many would you like?" Small Swell.—"A— don't
know exactly. S'pose we say twenty-four pairs; and look here! Show
me some patterns that won't be worn by any snobs!"
Cockney Flunkey,—(Country Footman meekly inquires of
London Footman)—"Pray, sir, what do you think of our town? A
nice place, ain't it" London Footman (condescendingly).
"Vell, Joseph, I likes your town well enough. It's clean: your
streets are hairy; and you have lots of rewins.
But I don't like your champagne, it's all gewsberry!"
Cockney Cabby (with politeness). — "Beg pardon, sir;
please don't smoke in the keb. sir; ladies do complain o' the 'bacca
uncommon. Better let me smoke it for yer outside, sir!"
Military Cockney.—Lieutenant Blazer (of the
Plungers).—"Gwood wacious! Here's a howible go! The ifan [?word illegible] v's
going to gwow a moustache! Cornet Huffey
(whose face is whiskerless). "Yaw don't mean that! Wall! there's
only one alternative for us. We must shave!"
Juvenile Low Cockney.—"Jack; Whereabouts is Amstid-am?"
Jack. "Well, I can't say exackerley, but I know it's
somewhere near "Ampstid-'eath!"
Cockney Domestic.—Servant girl—" Well,
mam—Heverythink considered, I'm afraid you won't suit me. I've
always bin brought up genteel: and I couldn't go nowheres where
there ain't no footman kep'."
Another.—Lady. "Wish to leave! why, I thought,
Thompson, you were very comfortable with me!" Thompson (who is
extremely refined). "Ho yes, mum! I don't find no fault with
you, mum—nor yet with master—but the truth his, mum—the
hother servants is so orrid vulgar and hignorant, and speaks
so hungrammaticai, that I reely cannot live in the same 'ouse with
'em—and I should like to go this day month, if so be has it won't
illconvenience you!"
Cockney Waiter.—"'Am, sir? Yessir? Don't take anything with
your 'am, do you, sir?" Gentleman. "Yes, I do; I take the
letter H!"