This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1875 Excerpt: ...the side of 'er sister, and more than that, as 'er mother natral took a pride in 'er as were best lookin'. I don't think as I set eyes on Mrs. Cleaver for nearly two year, when she sent one of 'er little gals over to me for to borrer a few shillin's, as she said as she'd return the moment as 'er father got 'is pension. ...
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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1875 Excerpt: ...the side of 'er sister, and more than that, as 'er mother natral took a pride in 'er as were best lookin'. I don't think as I set eyes on Mrs. Cleaver for nearly two year, when she sent one of 'er little gals over to me for to borrer a few shillin's, as she said as she'd return the moment as 'er father got 'is pension. I knowed werry well wot that meant, for the poor old man's bit of money were alway swallered up like butter afore the sun, as the sayin' is, long before ever it come due. So I give the gal the money, and jest asked arter 'er mother, as said mother's werry low, and frets a deal over Emma. "Law," I says, "why, surely Emma ain't dead." She says, "Oh! dear no, quite different, thro' bein' quite the lady, tho' she won't take notice of mother nor none of us." I says, " So much the better for you; leastways that's my opinion." "Oh!" says the child, "she's got lovely clothes, and 'ave been seen in a carridge with a long feather, and a pink parrysole over 'er 'ead." "Ah!" I says, "never you mind, child, but learn to work and get your bread 'onest, and don't get your 'ead full of no rubbish." In course I never see no more of my money nor yet Mrs. Cleaver neither, and often wondered wotever 'ad become on 'em, as 'ad all gone to live out by Kensal Green way, and was a-livin' by the wash-tub. I'd got plenty on my 'ands jest then, and 'adn't no time to go a-runnin' arter nobody; but it did so 'appen thro' me a-gettin' out of a Bow and Stratford bus at the Regency Circus, as I run slap agin Emma Cleaver, dressed out that figger as I blushed to see 'er. She says, with a larf like, "Hullo! Martha. 'Ow are you, old soul," in a sporting sort of a way. I says, "None th...
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