Yer can't do it, that's all-- Yer can twist, and kick, and toss, and it don't do no good.

Yer jest can't do it-- Now you take notice." Then he would kick violently and the cage would run around on trolleys and keep the broken limb straight.

"See!" he would exclaim, "Wot did I tell you-- Its no use of trying, yer just can't do it.

'ere I've been ten days a trying and it can't be done." We had a very fine Christmas dinner just Ethel, the McCarthy's and I.
Fanny, tell Charles, brought in the plum pudding with a sprig of holly in it and blazing, and after dinner I read them the Jackall-- About eleven I started to take Ethel to Miss Terry's, who lives miles beyond Kensington.

There was a light fog.