"I won't geep you long.

I haf gome to pring pack dose macassines and dis mawney.

I can't do any more voark for you; and I can't geep the mawney you haf baid me a'ready.

It iss not hawnest mawney--that hass been oarned py voark; it iss mawney that hass peen mate py sbeculation, and the obbression off lapor, and the necessity of the boor, py a man--Here it is, efery tollar, efery zent.

Dake it; I feel as if dere vas ploodt on it." "Why, Lindau," March began, but the old man interrupted him.
"Ton't dalk to me, Passil! I could not haf believedt it of you.