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Bragin, sez I, very cool; ''tis not for me to interfere wid your a-moors; but you might manage some things wid more dacincy. I'm off to canteen', I sez. "I turned on my heel an' wint away, swearin' I wud give that man a dhressin' that wud shtop him messin' about the Married Quarters for a month an' a week.
The a-moors av Lotharius Learoyd! Stanley, kape a rowlin' rig'mental eye on the valley." "It's along o' yon hill there," said Learoyd, watching the bare sub-Himalayan spur that reminded him of his Yorkshire moors. He was speaking more to himself than his fellows. "Ay," said he, "Rumbolds Moor stands up ower Skipton town, an' Greenhow Hill stands up ower Pately Brig.
I'd niver seen a woman faint before, an' I stud like a shtuck calf, askin' her whether she was dead, an' prayin' her for the love av me, an' the love av her husband, an' the love av the Virgin, to opin her blessed eyes again, an' callin' mesilf all the names undher the canopy av Hivin for plaguin' her wid my miserable a-moors whin I ought to ha' stud betune her an' this Corp'ril man that had lost the number av his mess.
The a-moors av Lotharius Learoyd! Stanley, kape a rowlin' rig'mental eye on the valley. 'It's along o' yon hill there, said Learoyd, watching the bare sub- Himalayan spur that reminded him of his Yorkshire moors. He was speaking more to himself than his fellows. 'Ay, said he, 'Rumbolds Moor stands up ower Skipton town, an' Greenhow Hill stands up ower Pately Brig.
Bragin," sez I, very cool; "'tis not for me to interfere wid your a-moors; but you might manage things wid more dacincy. I'm off to canteen," I sez. 'I turned on my heel an' wint away, swearin' I wud give that man a dhressin' that wud shtop him messin' about the Married Quarters for a month an' a week.
I'd never seen a woman faint before, an' I stud like a shtuck calf, askin' her whether she was dead, an' prayin' her for the love av me, an' the love av her husband, an' the love av the Virgin, to opin her blessed eyes again, an' callin' mesilf all the names undher the canopy av Hivin for plaguin' her wid my miserable a-moors whin I ought to ha' stud betune her an' this Corp'ril man that had lost the number av his mess.
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