“I CHASES ’EM. I flaps my apron at ’em. But they sees me coming. They sees my apron. But I’ll get ’em, one day.”
“‘– her black joke and belly so white, so white; her black joke and her belly so white!’”
Oh, give over.
“We was flying a blue pigeon; but before we can bite the ken, some mollisher whiddles beef, and I’m bummed and naps fourteen penn’ orth.”
Across the deck, forrard. Too dark.
“The cove’s so scaly, he’d spice a mawkin for his jasey.”
Not his jasey. Never. It were his weskit.
“Shema yisroel, a-don-ai elo-henu, a-donai echod.”
“Mother of God! Who’s the porker?”
“The Geordie Smous kid.”
“Chelsea College to a sentry box, there’ll be indorsing dues concerned!”
Give over!
“How long shall us be on the Herring-Pond?”
“Six month, within ames ace.”
“Somewhat more than three days and nights in the belly of this whale, I fear.”
That’s a nob! What’s he at?
“Not entirely star-crossed in his solitude, was Jonas; before St Giles’s Greek was noised.”
“Aye aye! There’ll be indorsing dues concerned.”
“I chases ’em. I flaps my apron at ’em. But they sees me coming. They sees my apron. But I’ll get ’em, one day.”
“Come on, mates! Bear a bob!
“‘Oh, we are the boys of the Holy Ground,
And we’ll dance upon nothing, and turn us around.
We’ll dance upon nothing and turn us around;
For we are the boys of the Holy Ground!’”
“I chases ’em. I flaps my apron at ’em. But they sees me coming. They sees my apron. But I’ll get ’em, one day.”
“Oi! You! Jaw-me-dead!”
“It’s lag fever.”
“His garret’s unfurnished.”
“I’ll hush the cull, if he don’t stubble it. Bloody end to me if I don’t.”
“I chases ’em.”
“Bloody end to me! Shut your bone box, lobcock!”
“Hey, Teddy-me-Godson.”
“I flaps my apron at ’em.”
“Teddy-me-Godson: couch a hogshead, now. Go box the Jesuit and get cockroaches, eh? Mount a corporal and four. That’ll put you in fine twig.”
“Shema yisroel, a-don-ai elo-henu, a-donai echod.”
“Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum –”
“But they sees me coming. They sees my apron.”
“Vater unser, der du bist im Himmel –”
Sarn it! What’s to do wi’ ’em? Why don’t they shurrup, yowking?
“– ora pro nobis ora pro nobis ora pro nobis ora pro nobis ora –”
Dall yer eyes! Barm pots! All on yer! Talk sense! Or else! Or else! Or else –!
“Shema yisroel, a-don-ai elo-henu, a-donai echod.”
“Unser täglich Brot gib uns heute.” “But I’ll get ’em –”
“— pro nobis peccatoribus –”
“For we are the boys of the Holy Ground.”
“— in hora mortis nostrae.”
“Kiminary keemo,
Kiminary keemo,
Kiminary kiltikary, kiminary keemo –”
“— one day.”
“Het!”