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And everything'd be as still as death except for that eternal swishin' of the surf on the beach, babblin' of 'Peace! Peace! Peace! an' maybe once in a while the royal voice lifted in one of them sad slumber songs of the South Seas creepy and dirgelike and beautiful. My girl could sing circles around a sky lark.
Tammy ventured the opinion that it might be some kind of a cart for lame laddies to ride in. "A picnic is when ye gang gypsying in the summer," Mr. Traill explained. "Ye walk to a bonny green brae, an' sit doon under a hawthorntree a' covered wi' posies, by a babblin' burn, an' ye eat oot o' yer ain hands. An' syne ye hear a throstle or a redbreast sing an' a saucy blackbird whustle."
His books are used in th' schools. An' what does this man, who got his knowledge iv wild beasts apparently fr'm mis-treatin' hens f'r th' pip, say; what is his message to th' little babblin' childher iv Conneticut? It is thim that I've got to think iv.
She wuz riz up above the blame or praise the belittlin', foolish, personal babblin' of contemporary criticism. Her head wuz lifted towards the stars. But to resoom, and continue on. After we reluctantly left off contemplatin' that statute of Woman, we wended along to the buildin' of Manafactures and Liberal Arts, that colossial structure that dwarfs all the other giants of the Exposition.
And when he came to die oh, in a very, very few years, for they must remember that "a doggie isna as lang-leevin' as folk" they must not forget that Bobby would not be permitted to be buried in the kirkyard. "We'll gie 'im a grand buryin'," said Tammy. "We'll find a green brae by a babblin' burn aneath a snawy hawthorn, whaur the throstle sings an' the blackbird whustles."
I thought it was goin' to be that friend of yours, but she's off the register, poor lass. There! I didn't mean that. I 'm an idiot, for sure. You see, I don't talk much as a rule, Miss Maxwell, or I should know better than to chin-wag like a blazin' huh, like a babblin' fool." Elsie turned her face aside when he mentioned Isobel.
That wus the question that was a hantin' her soul. It wus jest like death for her to face the curius gaze of the world again; for, like a wounded animal, she had wanted to crawl away, and hide her cruel woe and disgrace in some sheltered spot, away from the sharp-sot eyes of the babblin' world. But she endured it.
Elnathan couldn't talk about anything else like little babblin' brooks runnin' towards the sea, all his talk, every anecdote he told, and every idee he sot forth, jest led up to and ended with that child. Jest like creeks. He worshipped her.
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