human
I say, Tom, old horse, this is a prime spread! said Gus;
gpt
Oh! said Tom,
human
I had a new hat coming from Tiler's, so I got old Tripes (the butcher) to make a neat brown-paper parcel of the kidneys, and got them up in my gossamer. The old donkey might have done the thing better though, for the juice squeezed through, and the inside of my hat looks as if I had lately been scalped.
gpt
Hard lines! But never mind, perhaps they'll put it down to the crack you got on your forehead.