Poetry's unnat'ral; no man ever talked poetry 'cept a beadle on Boxin'-Day, or Warren's blackin', or… — Charles Dickens
Poetry's unnat'ral; no man ever talked poetry 'cept a beadle on Boxin'-Day, or Warren's blackin', or Rowland's oil, or some of them low fellows; never you let yourself down to talk poetry, my boy.
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Wotever is, is right, as the young nobleman sveetly remarked wen they put him down in the pension list 'cos his mother's uncle's vife's grandfather vunce lit the king's pipe vith a portable tinder-box.
Miss Bolo rose from the table considerably agitated, and went straight home, in a flood of tears and a sedan-chair.
Anythin' for a quiet life, as the man said wen he took the sitivation at the lighthouse.
