"The Wilkinsons over at Todfoot have had their house broken into now,"
Mrs. Brown was saying. "_All_ her jewellery gone. They think it's a
gang. It's just the villages round here. There seems to be one every
day!"
William expressed his surprise.
"Oh, 'ell!" he ejaculated, with a slightly self-conscious air.
Mr. Brown turned round and looked at his son.
"May I ask," he said politely, "where you picked up that expression?"
"I got it off one of my fren's," said William with quiet pride.
"Then I'd take it as a personal favour," went on Mr. Brown, "if you'd
kindly refrain from airing your friends' vocabularies in this house."
"He means you're never to say it again, William," translated Mrs.
Brown sternly. "_Never._"
"All right," said William. "I won't. See? I da--jolly well won't.
Strike me pink. See?"
He departed with an air of scowling mystery and dignity combined,
leaving his parents speechless with amazement.
That afternoon he returned to the White Lion. Mr. Blank was standing
unobtrusively in the shadow of the wall.
"'Ello, young gent," he greeted William, "nice dorg you've got."
William looked proudly down at Jumble.
"You won't find," he said proudly and with some truth, "you won't find
another dog like this--not for _miles_!"
"Will 'e be much good as a watch dog, now?" asked Mr. Blank
carelessly.
"Good?" said William, almost indignant at the question. "There isn't
any sort of dog he isn't good at!"
"Umph," said Mr.
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