W. W. Jacobs

“ I don't want drink; but I thought o' going to a music-'all this evening."
"Going to wot?" ses old Isaac, drawing 'imself up and looking very shocked.
"A music-'all," ses Ginger, trying to keep 'is temper.
"A music-'all," ses Isaac; "why, it's worse than a pub, Ginger. I should be a very poor friend o' yours if I let you go there—I couldn't think of it."
"Wot's it got to do with you, you gray-whiskered serpent?" screams Ginger, arf mad with rage. "Why don't you leave us alone? Why don't you mind your own business? It's our money." ”

“ It was a silly thing to say, seeing that that was just wot 'ad 'appened, and Ginger told 'im wot 'e'd do for 'im when 'e'd finished with Isaac. He went at the old man agin, but 'e never 'ad a chance, and in about three minutes 'e was very glad to let Peter 'elp 'im into bed.
"It's your turn to fight him now, Peter," he ses. "Just move this piller so as I can see."
"Come on, lad," ses the old man.
Peter shook 'is 'ead. "I have no wish to 'urt you, Isaac," he ses, kindly; "excitement like fighting is dangerous for an old man. Give us our money and we'll say no more about it." ”

“ First of all 'e wanted Peter's clothes to be took instead of 'is, and when Peter pointed out that they was too shabby to fetch ten shillings 'e 'ad a lot o' nasty things to say about wearing such old rags, and at last, in a terrible temper, 'e took 'is clothes off and pitched 'em in a 'eap on the floor.
"If you ain't back in arf an hour, Peter," 'e ses, scowling at 'im, "you'll 'ear from me, I can tell you."
"Don't you worry about that," ses Isaac, with a smile. "I'm going to take 'em."
"You?" ses Ginger; "but you can't. You ain't got no clothes." ”