their cocked 'ats? What do they call _them_?

_Jem_ (_a young man, who thinks for himself_). Well, I shouldn't
wonder if those were the parties they call "Doges"--sort o' police
over there, d'ye see?

_Lizzie_. They're 'andsomer than 'elmets, I will say _that_ for them.
(_They enter Modern Venice, amidst cries of "This way for Gondoala
Tickets! Pass along, please! Keep to your right!"_ &c., &c.) It _does_
have a foreign look, with all those queer names written up. Think it's
like what it is, JEM?

_Jem_. Bound to be, with all the money they've spent on it. I daresay
they've idle-ised it a bit, though.

_The P.M._ Where are all these kinals they talk so much about? I don't
see none!

_Jem_ (_as a break in the crowd reveals a narrow olive-green
channel_). Why, what d'ye call _that_, Ma?

_The P.M._ That a kinal! Why, you don't mean to tell me any barge
'ud--

_The Opt. Husb._ Go on!--you didn't suppose you'd find the Paddington
Canal in _these_ parts, did you? This is big enough for all
_they_ want. (_A gondola goes by lurchily, crowded with pot-hatted
passengers, smoking pipes, and wearing the uncomfortable smile of
children enjoying their first elephant-ride._) That's one o' these
'ere gondoalers--it's a rum-looking concern, ain't it? But I suppose