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No, I don't, either; because——" "Well, Winny?" "I don't know what I was going to say," she added, in some confusion; "only I'm sorry you were born a gentleman. "Mac, you old son-of-a-gun!" "Got a man's breakfast?" McClintock demanded to know. Ain't you, Jacky darling?" "Not quite, Poll," returned Mr. Hearing the approach of the rider, Mr. One or two of the tables were occupied by groups of fat frowzy women in flat caps, with rings on their thumbs, and baskets by their sides; and no one who had listened for a single moment to their coarse language and violent abuse of each other, would require to be told they were fish-wives from Billingsgate.
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