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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

"Barnaby Rudge: a tale of the Riots of 'eighty"


'You want to serve,' said his new friend. 'You shall. You were made for
it. You're one of us by nature. What'll you take to drink?'
'Nothing just now,' replied Joe, smiling faintly. 'I haven't quite made
up my mind.'
'A mettlesome fellow like you, and not made up his mind!' cried the
serjeant. 'Here--let me give the bell a pull, and you'll make up your
mind in half a minute, I know.'
'You're right so far'--answered Joe, 'for if you pull the bell here,
where I'm known, there'll be an end of my soldiering inclinations in no
time. Look in my face. You see me, do you?'
'I do,' replied the serjeant with an oath, 'and a finer young fellow or
one better qualified to serve his king and country, I never set my--' he
used an adjective in this place--'eyes on.
'Thank you,' said Joe, 'I didn't ask you for want of a compliment, but
thank you all the same. Do I look like a sneaking fellow or a liar?'
The serjeant rejoined with many choice asseverations that he didn't; and
that if his (the serjeant's) own father were to say he did, he would
run the old gentleman through the body cheerfully, and consider it a
meritorious action.
Joe expressed his obligations, and continued, 'You can trust me then,
and credit what I say.


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