Hard in the bone he is;--wish I was as hard." "How much diachylum will you want, then, Mr.Beer ?" "Well, I don't know.

Let's see!" and Jan pulls up his blue trousers, and pulls down his grey rig and furrows, and considers his broad and shaggy shins.
"Matter of four pennies broad: two to each leg;" and then replaces his elbows, and smokes on.
"I say, Doctor, that 'ere curate come out well last night.

I shall go to church next Sunday." "What," asks the satellite, "after you upset he that fashion yesterday ?" "I don't care what you thinks;" says Jan, who, of course, bullies his jackal, like most lions: "but I goes to church.

He's a good 'un, say I,--little and good, like a Welshman's cow; and clapped me on the back when we'd got the man and the maid safe, and says,--'Well done our side, old fellow!' and stands something hot all round, what's more, in at the Mariner's Rest .-- I say, Doctor, where's he as we hauled ashore?
I'll go up and see 'un." "Not now, then, Mr.Beer; not now, then.

He's sleeping, indeed he is, like any child." "So much the better.