but was engulphed in an oshun of hot galls, who kinder steamed again.
The gas, close over our heads, nigh made our brains bile over, so
sez I, "Let's make tracks out of this, Squire. It ain't civet
(Schakspar) here. This parfume of humanity is horrid unhandsome."

"Let's have a cup of corfy," says he, "to repare exhorsted natur."

"A sherry cobbler would be more to the purpose," says I, "but if they
hev none of them coolin drinks at art sworricks, here goes for the
Moky." (N.B.--This I sed ironical. Korfy at sworricks is usually
burnt beans.)

So we med our way into another room, with 2 bar-counters, and a crowd
of people pushin and drivin to get forrerd. They knocked and elbered
me about till I felt my dander riz. "Come on, Squire," sez I,
setting my arms a kimber; "take care, my old coons, of your tendur
Korns and Bunyans. Look out for your ribs, for I've crooked my
elbers," and forrerd I goes with Squire follerin' in my wake. Bimeby
a woman's long skirt gets between my legs, and I spins round and goes
kerslash into the stumuck of a fat old gentleman, who was just blowin
his third cup. He med a spaired his breath though! kerslap I goes
into his wastecote, and kesouse goes his coffy over his shoulders
onto hed and neck of a bony old made with a bird of Pardice in her
artificial locks.

"Beg your pardon, marm," sez I, as soon as I could speak.

She looked imprekashuns, and turned away ortily, mopping herself down
with a laced nose-rag.