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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

"Nicholas Nickleby"

'Is there ony genelmen there as can len' a hond here?
Keep quiet, dang ye! Wo ho!'
'What's the matter?' demanded Nicholas, looking sleepily up.
'Matther mun, matter eneaf for one neight,' replied the guard; 'dang the
wall-eyed bay, he's gane mad wi' glory I think, carse t'coorch is over.
Here, can't ye len' a hond? Dom it, I'd ha' dean it if all my boans were
brokken.'
'Here!' cried Nicholas, staggering to his feet, 'I'm ready. I'm only a
little abroad, that's all.'
'Hoold 'em toight,' cried the guard, 'while ar coot treaces. Hang on
tiv'em sumhoo. Well deane, my lod. That's it. Let'em goa noo. Dang 'em,
they'll gang whoam fast eneaf!'
In truth, the animals were no sooner released than they trotted back,
with much deliberation, to the stable they had just left, which was
distant not a mile behind.
'Can you blo' a harn?' asked the guard, disengaging one of the
coach-lamps.
'I dare say I can,' replied Nicholas.
'Then just blo' away into that 'un as lies on the grund, fit to wakken
the deead, will'ee,' said the man, 'while I stop sum o' this here
squealing inside. Cumin', cumin'. Dean't make that noise, wooman.


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