Paasch 'e's blue mouldy, an' couldn't catch a snail unless yer give 'im a start; an' if yer went ter Packard's, yer'd tell the manager ter go to 'ell, an' git fired out the first week.

Yous must be yer own boss, Joe.

I've studied yer like a book, an yer nose wasn't made that shape for nuthin'." "W'y, wot's wrong wi' it ?" laughed Jonah, feeling his nose with its powerful, predatory curve.
"Nuthin', if yer listen to me.

'Ave yer got pluck enough ter start on yer own ?" she inquired, suddenly.
"Wot's the use, w'en I've got no beans ?" replied Jonah.
"I'll find the beans, an' yer can go an' buy Bob Watkins's shop out as it stands," said Mrs Yabsley, proudly.
"Fair dinkum!" cried Jonah, in amazement.
Ada put down her novelette and stared, astonished at the turn of the conversation.

It flashed through her mind that her mother had some mysterious habits.