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"You must not talk so, Ada;" and I took her hand, which was burning. "Why not? Who are you, to prevent me? I am as good as you any day or Miss Lamarque either, or any of those haughty ones though my father was a negro-trader. Well, whose business was that but God's? If He don't care, who need care? An't I right, old mammy?" appealing to the ancient negress, who had suspended her croon to listen.
The cook and butler, who were advanced in years, thought that it was just as it should be; but the footman and lady's maid, who were younger, thought it was a great shame that Mr Slope should lose his chance. 'He's a mean chap all the same, said the footman; 'and it an't along of him that I says so. But I always did admire the missus's sister; and she'd well become the situation.
"But why should you think," said Lucy, looking ashamed of her sister, "that there are not as many genteel young men in Devonshire as Sussex?" "Nay, my dear, I'm sure I don't pretend to say that there an't.
Every day we hear the story of voices ruined by forcing high tones. Who is responsible? Each one must answer for himself. With the hope of diminishing it in some degree, this outline is offered. "I will roar you as gently as any sucking dove: I will roar you an't were any nightingale." Shakespeare. A Midsummer Night's Dream. The singing world is confronted with a situation unique in its humor.
"He hath writ, but three lines, and named not Denys of Burgundy, nor any stranger." "Ay, I mind the long letter was to his sweetheart, this Margaret, and she has decamped, plague take her, and how I am to find her Heaven knows." "What, she is not your sweetheart then?" "Who, dame? an't please you." "Why, Margaret Brandt." "How can my comrade's sweetheart be mine?
'Yes I will, mother. What nonsense. I say, sir Mr Quilp affected to start, and looked smilingly round. 'You let my mother alone, will you? said Kit. 'How dare you tease a poor lone woman like her, making her miserable and melancholy as if she hadn't got enough to make her so, without you. An't you ashamed of yourself, you little monster? 'Monster! said Quilp inwardly, with a smile.
'Why, what palaver's this? asked Mr Dennis with supreme disdain. 'We an't got no sentimental members among us, I hope. 'Don't be uneasy, brother, cried Hugh, 'he's only talking of his mother. 'Of his what? said Mr Dennis with a strong oath. 'His mother.
It maks them go at a deevil o' a rate. I've seen great, fat, auld chaps, that ye wadna hae thocht could rin a yard an't were to save their lives, flee like the win before a 'Whereas." "Noo, noo, Davy," continued Howison, and now recalling his neighbour's attention to business, "let us be joggin. He's takin the richt road, so we'll just pin him at our leisure."
Amongst many other book-debts, all of which I shall discharge in due time, I own myself a debtor to the world for two items, a chapter upon chamber-maids and button-holes, which, in the former part of my work, I promised and fully intended to pay off this year: but some of your worships and reverences telling me, that the two subjects, especially so connected together, might endanger the morals of the world, I pray the chapter upon chamber-maids and button-holes may be forgiven me, and that they will accept of the last chapter in lieu of it; which is nothing, an't please your reverences, but a chapter of chamber-maids, green gowns, and old hats.
It don't glimmer where I live, the sun don't. No. I'm a brown forester, I am. I an't a Johnny Cake. There are no smooth skins where I live. We're rough men there. Rather. If Down Easters and men of Boston raising like this, I'm glad of it, but I'm none of that raising nor of that breed. No. This company wants a little fixing, IT does. I'm the wrong sort of man for 'em, I am.
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