Tell you wot you do, lad.

Run around in the mornin' an' look in the dust pans.

You'll find plenty o' tins to cook in.

Fine tins, wonderful good some o' them.

Me an' the ole woman got ours that way." (He pointed at the bundle she held, while she nodded proudly, beaming on me with good-nature and consciousness of success and prosperity.) "This overcoat is as good as a blanket," he went on, advancing the skirt of it that I might feel its thickness.