United States or Christmas Island ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
If thou'd got another roonaway boy, I'd do it agean. If thou'd got twonty roonaway boys, I'd do it twonty times ower, and twonty more to thot; and I tell thee more, said John, 'noo my blood is oop, that thou'rt an old ra'ascal; and that it's weel for thou, thou be'est an old 'un, or I'd ha' poonded thee to flour when thou told an honest mun hoo thou'd licked that poor chap in t' coorch.
John Jordan asked. "I doan't see no good in knowing that t' sun be a hundred thousand times as big as t' world." "There's use in a great deal o' what one gets to know, though," Jack said; "not so much now as some day, maybe. A chap as has some sort o' edication has chances over another o' being chosen as a viewer or an oversman." "Oh! that's what thou be'est looking forward to, Jack, eh?
And we all hope that, for there aren't nowhere a juster man nor the Squoire, and he's hale and hearty. But in course of things his time'll run out. And it be so, Mr. John, that thou be'est going for ever and allays? 'I rather think I am. 'It's wrong, Mr. John. Though maybe I'm making over-free to talk of what don't concern me. Yet I say it's wrong.
Ralph Holt, the occupier of Twopenny farm, whose father also and grandfather had lived upon the same acres. 'And so thou be'est going away from us, Mr. John, said the farmer, with real tenderness, almost with solemnity, in his voice, although there was at the same time something ridiculous in the far-fetched sadness of his tone and gait.
"'Twould be a good thing to know how to make dresses," Fanny Jones, who was fond of finery, remarked. "And other things too," put in Peggy Martin, "and to cook too. Mother ain't a good hand at cooking and it puts feyther in such tempers, and sometimes I hardly wonder. I shall go if some others go. But be'est sure it be true, Sally?"
'Why didn't 'ee punch his head, or lay theeself doon and kick, and squeal out for the pollis? I'd ha' licked a doozen such as him when I was yoong as thee. But thee be'est a poor broken-doon chap, said John, sadly, 'and God forgi' me for bragging ower yan o' his weakest creeturs! Smike opened his mouth to speak, but John Browdie stopped him.
"Who be'est, boy? dang ee, what brings ye here?" Ned gulped down the emotion of fear excited by their threatening appearance, and replied as calmly as he could: "I am sorry to say that I have had a struggle with a boy over by that rock yonder. We fell together, and he has broken his leg. He told me if I came over in this direction I should find some one to help him."
In a quarter of an hour the latter drew rein at his father's door. "Hullo, Hugh, lad," the farmer, a hearty man of some fifty years of age, said, as he came to the door, "be'est thou? What art doing on the squire's horse? He looks as if thou had ridden him unmercifully, surely?" In a few words Hugh related what had taken place, and told him of his own offer to go to the wars with Rupert.
'If thou be'est an enemy, said he, 'though never couldst have taken me in a better humour of dying. Finish, Philander, that life then, which if you spare, it will possibly never leave thine in repose; the injuries you have done me being too great to be forgiven. 'And is it thus, replied Philander, 'thus with my mistress, that you would revenge them?
It's nobody's minding that keeps sike men as thou afloat. Noo then, where be'est thou coomin' to? Dang it, dinnot coom treadin' ower me, mun.
Word Of The Day