You have your wages in your hand on a Saturday night, and can deal at any shop you please." The man--he wore a battered old straw hat on his head, which looked as dirty as his face--raised his eyes with an air of surprise at Lionel.
"What wages, sir?
We don't get ours." "Not get your wages ?" repeated Lionel.
"No, sir; not on a Saturday night.

That's just it--it's where the new shoe's a-pinching.

Roy don't pay now on a Saturday night.

He gives us all a sort o' note, good for six shilling, and we has, us or our wives, to take that to Peckaby's, and get what we can for it.

On the Monday, at twelve o'clock, which is his new time for paying the wages, he docks us of six shilling.