human
Twenty-six or -seven--you're over twenty-five right now, I'll bet you on it, shillings to ha'pennies, and you'll make thirty when you get your full weight, Dag Daughtry told him.
gpt
But what of it? Lots of the judges fancy the thirty-mark. An' you could always train off a few ounces. You're all dog n' all correct conformation. You've got the racing build and the fighting weight, an' there ain't no feathers on your legs.
human
No, sir, Mr. Dog, your weight's to the good, and that ear can be ironed out by any respectable dog--doctor. I bet there's a hundred men in Sydney right now that would fork over twenty quid for the right of calling you his.