No Bartholomew answered.
'MURRAY ANN!' then hallooed Jog, in a sharper, quicker key.
'MURRAY ANN!' repeated he, still louder, after a pause.
'Yes, sir! here, sir!' exclaimed that invaluable servant, tidying her
pink-ribboned cap as she hurried into the passage below. Looking up, she
caught sight of her master's great sallow chaps hanging like a flitch of
bacon over the garret banister.
'Oh, Murry Ann,' bellowed Mr. Jog, at the top of his voice, still holding
his hands to his mouth, as soon as he saw her, 'Oh, Murry Ann, you'd better
get the (puff) breakfast ready; I think the (gasp) Mr. Sponge will be
(wheezing) away to-day.'
'Yes, sir,' replied Mary Ann.
'And tell Bartholomew to get his washin' bills in.'
'He harn't had no washin' done,' replied Mary Ann, raising her voice to
correspond with that of her master.
'Then his bill for postage,' replied Mr. Jog, in the same tone.
'He harn't had no letters neither,' replied Mary Ann.
'Oh, then, just get the breakfast ready,' rejoined Jog, adding, 'he'll be
(wheezing) away as soon as he gets it, I (puff) expect.
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