MR JORROCKS'S JOURNAL 



I was so blown myself, that I couldn't raise a 

 puff easier to blow one's 'orse than one's 'orn. 

 To add to my grief and infinite mortification, 

 Binjimin came poundin' and clatterin' along the 

 hard road, holloain' out as he went, "Buy LOB- 

 ster-r ! fine LoB-s&r-r-r ! " 



'The pack had turned down Greenford Lane, 

 and I jogged after them, sorely puzzled, and 

 desperate perplexed. On I went for a mile or 

 more, when the easterly breeze bore the 'ounds' 

 cry on its wings, and pushin' forward, I came to 

 a corner of the road, where the beauties had 

 thrown up short before an Italian plaster of Paris 

 poll-parrot merchant, who, tray on head, had the 

 whole pack at bay around him, bellowin' and 

 howlin' as though they would eat him. "Get 

 round them, Binjimin," cried I, "and flog them 

 away to me," and takin' out my 'orn, I blew for 

 'ard life, and what with view halloas, and cheerin', 

 and coaxin', with Bin. at their sterns, succeeded 

 in gettin' most of them back to their kennel. 

 Plaster of Paris poll-parrot merchant followed all 



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