So I knocks at the winder, and shakes my ’ead at ’im, he opens the gate and comes in up to the winder as I opens, and says, “Go along. I don’t want no more of your noise.”
He goes on with ’is gibberish rubbish, and I only says to ’im, “Get out!” and shets down the winder.
Well, them young waggerbones kep’ on a-blowin’ and ’owlin’, like any one in tortures till I couldn’t stand it no longer, so I opens the winder ag’in, and ’olds up a jug of water, as the gal ’ad brought me up for the plants, a-making believe to throw it over ’em, when one of them ’Opwoods as lives next door, comes out and tells ’em to go on playin’ and give ’em money.
The row as they kicked up, then, a-blowin’ right at me with them big ’orns of theirn did so aggravate me that I took and chucked all the water slap among ’em, and if one of them young wretches didn’t pick up a big stone and shiver a pane of glass in my front parlour in a jiffey.
CULTURE FOR THE MILLION; or, SOCIETY AS IT MAY BE.
New Chamber of Horrors at Madame Tussaud’s. (The right man in the right place.) Don’t be afraid, you little goose! it’s only wax-work! Why, I recollect when people like that were allowed to go loose about the streets!
I couldn’t stand that, so ketches up the fust thing as come to, and as proved to be the ’arth broom as ’angs with the kittle ’older, and out of the ’ouse I rushes.
Well, them boys took to their ’eels, when they see me comin’ out of the door, and run a little way, and then stopped and picked up stones and sent a reg’lar wolley at me.
I ducked my ’ead in course, as they all went over right into old ’Opwood’s Green-’ouse, as he jest ’ad put up ag’in ’is parlour.