human
I want that thirty cents, that's one thing sure and certain, thought Jamie,
gpt
Hello, Jim, whose dorg yer got?
human
Mine, of course; who d'yer think, Jack Jones?
gpt
Ain't yer goin' to take him to the pound? See here, displaying three silver tens in his soiled palm to Jamie's envious brown eyes.
human
Got 'em at the pound just now for catching a dorg. Goin' to the circus to-night. Big show, I tell yer. Can't yer come along?
gpt
Better sell that dorg, and earn thirty cents, and come along.