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Welsh, James C.

"The Underworld The Story of Robert Sinclair, Miner"


"Order for the sang, boys!" bawled Geordie, "Charlie is gaun to favor
the company," and as the noise immediately ceased, Charlie sang a song
about the fascinating women.
"That's a guid yin, Charlie," roared Walker, thumping the table as he
roared. "I hae had a lang experience o' weemin' bodies," and he winked
across to Geordie as he spoke, "an' I can say they are rale
blood-suckers. They're like whisky, gran' at the time, but you sing
sorry next day, an' fin' oot what a fool you hae been. They hing on to
you like leeches, an' mak' a mess o' things at the en'. Though you had a
face like a crocodile as long as you had plenty of cash, they'd lick
your feet; when your money's done, they're awa' like swallows at the
first nip o' autumn frost!"
"Ay, it's a dam'd funny world," he went on in a lower tone, as if half
speaking to himself. "A fu' purse an' you've plenty o' frien's, an' a
woman when you need her, but if your purse is toom, your heart may
grien a hell o' a lang while afore yin wad ever come near you."
Thus the evening passed till some were lying below the table, unable to
sit up and take their round; and finally the closing hour arrived, and
all had to disperse.


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