p yer
boys to the prerfishuns yer means 'em to foller." 'Osses is my
prerfishun, sir, and 'osses I was brought up to.

Excuse me just a minute, sir, if yer don't mind a-settin' on this yer
stool. I don't like to see nobody a-leanin' ag'in that there post. That
were "Snowflake's" stall, sir, in the old time, and "Snowflake" were
little Dora's pony.

My father were os'ler here, sir, afore I were born, and I growed up to
the stable, Master 'Arry, just as your ole father growed up to the 'All.
It were in ole Sir Markham's time, this were--ole Sir Markham, whose
picture hangs above the mantel in the dinin'-'all, as fine a hold
English gen'leman as ever crossed a 'unter and follered the 'ounds. The
first time as ever I see Sir Markham were when I were about four year
old. O' course, we lived on the estate, but I don't know as I'd ever
been up to the 'All till that partickler mornin', when I came wi' a
message for my father, and meets ole Sir Markham in the park. Now, yer
know, Sir Markham were a queer ole chap when he liked. He didn't take no
nonsens from nobody, he didn't. I've seen him thrash the keeper afore
now with his own ridin' whip, and he wouldn't 'a' stood partickler about
a boy or two, and as there'd been a deal of fruit stole out o' the
orchard about that time, he thought he'd jist up and frighten me a bit.
So he hollers out--"Hi! there, you boy, what right 'a' you got in my
park?" but I see a sort o' twinkle in his eye, so I knowed he weren't
real cross, and so I up and says, "Ain't boys got a right to go where
their fathers is?" He didn't say nothing more to me then, but when he
sees my father he says, "That's a smart boy o' yours, Jim," he says,
"and when he's a bit older yer must 'ave 'im up 'ere to 'elp."

Well, sir, I got a bit older in time, and I come up 'ere to 'elp, and,
'ceptin' for a very little while, I've been 'ere ever since.

I were a boy of fourteen when the things 'appened as make up the rest o'
my story. Sir Markham he were a matter o' sixty year old, I should say,
and Miss Dora, as I see it said in a book, once, "sweet, wery sweet,
wery, wery sweet seventeen."

I allus 'ad a hadmiration for Miss Dora. "Darling Dora" they called 'er
at the 'All, and so did I, when nobody wasn't listenin'. Nobody couldn't
know 'er without admirin' 'er, but I 'ad a special sort of hadmiration
for 'er as 'ad made me do any mortal thing she asked me, whatever it
might 'ave costed.

Yer see, when I were quite