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Justifies his New Naan to rumble over

the London cobble-stones, whereupon Master Milo (who for the last

hour had slumbered peacefully, coiled up in his corner like a kitten)

roused hihtened his cap and

pulled down his coat, broad awake all at once, and with his eyes as

round and bright as his buttons

"Are you tired, I

"Tired, sir, ho no, sir--not a bit, I ain't"

"But you haven't slept much"

"Slep', sir? I ain't slep' I only jest 'appened to close me eyes,

sir Ye see, I don't need h

for any man,--my pal Nick says so, and Nick knows a precious lot, 'e

do"

"Who is Nick?"

"Nick's a cobbler, sir,--boots and shoes,--ladies' and gents', and a

very good cobbler 'e is too, although a cripple wiv a gah we 'as our little turn-ups 'count of

'iin the Quality, I'm never very 'ard on 'im

'count of 'is crutch, d'ye see, sir"

"What do you mean by the 'Quality,' Imp?"

"Gentle-folks, sir,--rich folks like you an' illertine