Alfred de Rosann — page 67: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

58 ALFRED DE ROSANN. “So I perceive,” said the magistrate drily. “Then that’s positive proof, your lordship, since your lordship acknowledges it yourself,” cried Mr. Higgins with a. species of triumph depicted on his countenance. ‘ Well, as I was saying, I went into Birch’s, and sate down at a table jist as gravely as your lordship at the bench there, or an owl in an ivy bush. Ihad not been long engaged in discussing my hox-tail and sipping my punch, when I hears a gallows row at the door, and I sees that insinivating Freneh- man, with his castor a one side, and his hair sticking out like a mop, enter the inner room with a hawful swagger. ‘Oh ! oh!’ saysI to myself, says I, ‘here’s summat flash from Frogland:’ but I says nothing aloud, your lordship, although I takes notice of everything wot passes. ‘So that there Wounseer bounces in, set- ting us all agog ; and he orders his soup, which was turtle; and while the waiter was a-fetching it, he stares at me in the most himperant manner in the world, just as if my face was a bit more comical than your lordship’s, or any other poor ignorant creature in the world. J twigs my fine gentleman’s mincing looks and flagrant manner ; for I have heard speak of those confounded dancing-masters on t’other side of the water ; but [I still preserves my gravity. Pre- sently Mounseer’s soup arrives, and he forgets that it is steaming-hot ; so he claps a spoonful to his ugly mouth, and burns himself, as you might naturally sup- pose. Down drops the spoon—out he spits the soup —rap goes his hand on the table—and plump falls his foot on my corns. Now I don’t know whether your lordship be blessed with corns—but I has em in abun- dance ; and not being before-hand in an over good humour with our friend there, I was in a devil of a rage, particularly when he burst out into a_horse- laugh, as if it were a devilish good joke. This irri- tated me confoundedly—and I doesn’t deny having lifted up my fist and knocked the Frenchman down as clean as a whistle. That’s the plain unwarnished Gomichbooks,;com