Hum wrote down everything Gaspode said, editing out nothing. The boy didn't have the grasp of curses, considering that every other word Bailer spat in was something even dwarf mothers would bar from their children. So he wrote:
"I swear, that bastard's as dull as a damn, fing, you know-"
"A rusty pin?" Hum said without looking up. Gaspode scratched an ear, releasing fleas, dust, and dandruff to float gently down to the tent floor.
The tent was a "gift" from Bailer, as were the rats, lice, and toads that lived in happy tranquility in the dark, dank folds, that even Charlie wouldn't venture into, if he could fit.
Charlie was Hum's second-best friend.
Charlie was a moose.
All of Hum's wordly possessions were in that tent. A small cot, a tiny wooden desk, a lamp with a half-cup of oil, a box of matches, and his wardorbe of threee outfits. Two stage costumes and the small black tunic he wore now.
"Could be, could be," Gaspode said absently. "Anyways, he's a bloody tick, tha's wot he is. He-" Gaspode yelped and scattered as Bedle entered the low tent, fingers in his ears and his eyes scrunched shut.
"Please tell me that..thing isn't talking." Hum could barely hear, as Gaspode disappeared:
"Sod you, mister."
Beedle unplugged his ears and glared at Hum. The young boy stood and bowed. Beedle waved a hand. "Pack up. We're leavin' to Ankh-Morpork, tonight."
"Yes, Mr. Beedle."
"Hmmf." Beedle noticed the little lack booklet before Hum could stow it away, and descended upon him like an overweight Angel of Righteousness. "Aha!" He grabbed the book and thumbed through the worn aged pages, tattoed with Hum's scrawl. Beedle couldn't read, which was a good thing, what with the wide selection of Gaspodisms on his "master." But he tried to look knowlegable as he flipped through. With a smirk, he slipped it into his large dull brown coat. If Bailer could only've seen the boy's face,
"No personal items allowed. We all share here, understand."
"Yes, Mr. Beedle."
Beedle left the tent, to step into the steaming mound of droppings left right outside the tent flap. He squelched off to his cabin, fuming as dog chuckles rang about the clearing.