"BnrAKIN' up at last, Jarge," suggested Harry Hoe encouragingly, as Mr. Rabbity moved with unusual stiffness to his seat in the bar of the Green Man.
"Oi been doin' a paper day's wark in moi garden," retorted Jarge, while the other Abbot's Snorting ancients chuckled at Harry's rich joke.
"Ee!" he added bitterly. "Tu think o' they bompshus middle devils!"
He winced, and his muscles creaked as he sat down with extreme care, "Moi red chrysanths," he said tensely, "t" finest anywheres! Arl gone tu dom rewination, just like moi rassupberry canes! Chewed up!" he snarled, "Gnawed!"
The bar was now hushed in grave sym-n' don't ce tell Oi," continued Mr, Rab-pity, slamming down his pint pot, "as tees rabbits! Rabbits be prarper English animiies like farxes—"
"T fares, t' middle fares, that spai t' veines," murmured old Sam Scythe.
"Tees they danged'furrin grey squirrels!" hissed Mr. Rabbity: "Not our own red chaps—they danged grey turnners!"
"Ar!" said Mr. Mattock profoundly, "Fur-riners!"
"An' don't ce tell Oi" said Mr. Rabbity, "as it comes nachd even tu they danged fur-riners tu chew moi chrysanths! They got it from book lamin! Aye!" he shouted, "Furriners an' book larnin—they be t' curses o' t' world today!"
—Showman in the "Herald,"
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.