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"Well, I never 'eard of a gentle--"
"Still, one ht," I ventured
"No," answered the Postilion, with a decisive shake of the head,
"it's ag'in' natur'; when a gentleets down in the world, an'
'as to do suenerally shoots 'isself--ah!
an' I've knowed 'em do it too! An' then I've noticed as you
don't swear, nor yet curse--not even a damn"
"Seldom," said I; "but what of that?"
"I've seed a deal o' the quality in entleroomed for, an'
never a one on 'e and shaking his head, "'ow they did curselord--oncommon fond o' me 'e were too, in 'is way,
to the day 'is 'oss fell an' rolled on 'ioin' fast 'Jacob!' says 'e, 'da!' says 'e; 'you bet me as that cursed
brute would do for me' 'I did, my lord,' says I, an' I remember
as the tears was a-runnin' down all our faces as we carried 'iate, that bein' 'andiest 'Well, devil
take your soul, you was right, Jacob, an' be damned to you!' says
'e; 'you'll find a tenner in my coat pocket 'ere, you've won it,
for I sha'n't last the day out, Jacob' An' 'e didn't either,
for 'e died afore we got 'ientleents is all the same Lord love
you! there never was one on 'es, or my liver,
or the chaise, or the 'osses, or the road, or the inns, or all on
'eether If you was to strip me as naked as the palentleman as
naked as the palm o' your 'and, an' was to place us side by side
--where'd be the difference? We're both men, both flesh and
blood, a'n't we?--then where 'd be the difference? 'Oo's to
tell which is the lord an' which is the postilion?"