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PAUL CLIFFORD.

but a nice, tight little body, with a face like a carrot! that's a beauty for my money! honesty's stamped on his face, Mr. Tomlinson! I dare says,—(and the policeman grinned, for he had been a lad of the cross in his own day)—I dare says, poor innocent booby, he knows none of the ways of Lunnun town; and if he has not as merry a life as some folks, mayhap he may have a longer. But a merry one for ever, for such lads as us, Mr. Pepper!—I say, has you heard as how Bill Fang went to Scratch land (Scotland) and was stretched for smashing queer screens? (i. e. hung for uttering forged notes.) He died nation game; for when his father, who was a grey-headed parson, came to see him after the sentence, he says to the governor, says he, 'Give us a tip, old 'un, to pay the expenses, and die dacently.' The parson forks him out ten shiners, preaching all the while like winkey. Bob drops one of the guineas between his fingers, and says, 'Hollo, Dad, you have only tipped us nine of the yellow boys,—just now you said as how it was ten!' On this the parish-bull, who was as poor as if he'd been a mouse of the church, instead of a curate, lugs out another; and