Mr. Datchery hails with him: 'Halloa, Winks!'
He acknowledges the hail with: 'Halloa, Dick!' Their acquaintance
seemingly having been established on a familiar footing.
'But, I say,' he remonstrates, 'don't yer go a-making my name
public. I never means to plead to no name, mind yer. When they
says to me in the Lock-up, a-going to put me down in the book,
"What's your name?" I says to them, "Find out." Likewise when they
says, "What's your religion?" I says, "Find out."'
Which, it may be observed in passing, it would be immensely
difficult for the State, however statistical, to do.
'Asides which,' adds the boy, 'there ain't no family of Winkses.'
'I think there must be.'
'Yer lie, there ain't. The travellers give me the name on account
of my getting no settled sleep and being knocked up all night;
whereby I gets one eye roused open afore I've shut the other.
That's what Winks means. Deputy's the nighest name to indict me
by: but yer wouldn't catch me pleading to that, neither.'
'Deputy be it always, then. We two are good friends; eh, Deputy?'
'Jolly good.'
'I forgave you the debt you owed me when we first became
acquainted, and many of my sixpences have come your way since; eh,
Deputy?'
'Ah! And what's more, yer ain't no friend o' Jarsper's. What did
he go a-histing me off my legs for?'
'What indeed! But never mind him now. A shilling of mine is going
your way to-night, Deputy. You have just taken in a lodger I have
been speaking to; an infirm woman with a cough.
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