| Title | The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists |
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| Page | 1177 |
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| Chapter | -- |
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| Text |
precisely the same way under similar circumstances. `For my part, I'm a bloke like this,' said a tall man with a very loud voice - a chap who nearly fell down dead every time Rushton or Misery looked at him. `I'm a bloke like this 'ere: I never stands no cheek from no gaffers! If a guv'nor ses two bloody words to me, I downs me tools and I ses to 'im, "Wot! Don't I suit yer, guv'ner? Ain't I done enuff for yer? Werry good! Gimmie me bleedin' a'pence."' `Quite right too,' said everybody. That was the way to serve 'em. If only everyone would do the same as the tall man - who had just paid for another round of drinks - things would be a lot more comfortable than they was. `Last summer I was workin' for ole Buncer,' said a little man with a cutaway coat several sizes too large for him. |
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