I wants to feel the snowdrops, an' smell the vi'lets, an'
the primroses, a-growin' over my 'ead," sez she; "but that can't
never be, mother," sez she, a-sobbin' fit to bust; "never, never,
for such as me," sez she. An' I know'd what she meant, though she
never once blamed me, an' 'er words stuck in my gizzard like a thorn,
p'leaceman.'
'But what has all this to do with the girl you kidnapped?'
'Ain't I a-tellin' on ye as fast as I can? When my pore gal dropped
off to sleep, I sez to Polly Onion, "Poll," I sez, "to-morrow mornin'
I'll pop every-think as ain't popped a'ready, an' I'll leave you the
money to see arter 'er, an' I'll start for Carnarvon on Shanks's
pony. I knows a good many on the road," sez I, "as won't let Jokin'
Meg want for a crust and a sup, an' when I gits to Carnarvon I'll ax
'er aunt to bury 'er (she sells fish, 'er aunt does,"' sez I, "and
she's got a pot o' money), an' then I'll see the parson or the sexton
or somebody," sez I, "an' I'll tell 'em I've got a darter in London
as is goin' to die, a Carnarvon gal by family, an' I'll tell 'im she
ain't never bin married, an' then they'll bury 'er where she can
smell the primroses and the vi'lets.
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