He staggered in with the neck of a bottle showing out of his pocket.

In his hand was a piece of paper wrapped round the end of some yards of sausage.

The dog outside carried the other end.
"An' 'e ishn't dead ?" Dad said, after hearing what had befallen Dave.
"Don' b'leevsh id--wuzhn't bit.

Die 'fore shun'own ifsh desh ad'er bish 'm." "Bit!" Dave said bitterly, turning round to the surprise of everyone.
"I never said I was BIT.

No one said I was--only those snivelling idiots and that pumpkin-headed Irish pig there." Maloney lowered his jaw and opened his eyes.
"Zhackly.