Explore "Two Larrikins" by Henry Lawson on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"Y'orter do something, Ernie. Yer know how I am. YOU don't seem to care. Y'orter to do something."
Stowsher slouched at a greater angle to the greasy door-post, and scowled under his hat-brim. It was a little, low, frowsy room opening into Jones' Alley. She sat at the table, sewing -- a thin, sallow girl with weak, colourless eyes. She looked as frowsy as her surroundings.