Watch they were grabbing was worth fifty quid, and he—I persoom—was worth somethink, to someone,
Though I wouldn't buy such at tuppence a stun. In the matter o' meanness this world is a rum one.
Chollop was luckier. "Jack," 'e says, rubbing 'is rhububy chin, like a old nutmeg-grater;
"Jack, I was fair discumfuddled that journey. 'Ardly knew wich was my bloomin' equator,
And wich my North Pole. Left my 'at on the 'arthrug, and tried to shake 'ands with the mortar-haired flunkey!
Scott! if you'd seen 'im dror back with a shudder! 'Twould fetch a fair grin from a blessed brass monkey.
"A tenner! The fust my ten fingers 'ad 'andled. As crisp and as clean as my Sunday-best dickey.
Wanted to change it right off; 'fraid o' losing, or lighting my pipe with it. Paper's so tricky;
Popped in a shop for a ounce o' best shag and a sixpenny briar. But when the old codger
Clapped heyes on the flimsy in my bunch o' fives, wy 'e set me down, strite, for a fair Hartful Dodger.