Max Pemberton

“ I knew well what the chap was after, and I said to myself, "Nicky, my boy, here's another bit of white paper which the wind has sent us." Yet how they had scented us out, or whose writ it was, I couldn't think. At the same time, it wasn't for me to be putting thoughts into the constable's head, and I kept my wits about me.
"It seems to me that the village should think itself lucky to have such a man as you about, Mr. Reubens," said I, after a bit. "There's no knowing what these London chaps aren't up to nowadays. ”

“ I cried, as quickly as I could. "But this wasn't the telegram I was looking for, that is all. You're quite sure that the words came over the wire as you have written them, Mr. Barker?"
"Just as sure as mortal man can be, I took them down myself. Not that I'm any Pope of Rome, Mr. Bigg, and above mistakes."
"No, that you bain't, Barker," said Reubens; "no more ain't we all. So long as the world is, so long will some of us go queer in the head when the weather's hot. Let's hope as there won't be no mistakes when our books is balanced upstairs. ”

“ Drat ye, go out and smoke your pipe, and leave me to get the childer to bed.' Ay, wunnerful woman she is with childer! Ye'll not be having a lucifer about you, Mr. Bigg?"
"Oh, but I have, though. You'll take a glass of ale with me, Mr. Reubens?"
"Well, now, you do put things into a man's head!"
I took him up to the Duke of York, and we went into the private bar at his wish.
"There's some as say," he explained, "that a constable shouldn't go for to be seen drinking in a public; but that's not my word. A man's a man, and no' the worse for taking a glass of yale like other folk. ”