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Slog Villum I mean; how are you? Come along. Vell, I am glad to see you, for, d'you know, arter you failed me that day at the Black Bull, I have bin givin' you a pretty bad character, an' callin' you no end o' bad names." "Is that what your `angel' teaches you, Robin?" "Vell, not exactly, but you'll hear wot she teaches for yourself to-night, I 'ope. Come, I'm right glad to see you, Villum.
The flour was in a bin about six feet square, by four feet high, and only a small round hole at the top. We soon enlarged that so that a man could get in. I furnished him with a wooden shovel evidently meant for the job, and gave the order for the men to file in. As each man came in he received a shovelful, into his skirt tail, and then had to march round a box and out of the door.
"Well, it is strange how some folk can't abide anything in the meat way they han't bin used to. D'ye know I've actually knowd men from the cities as wouldn't eat a bit o' horseflesh for love or money. Would ye believe it?" "I can well believe that, Joe, for I have met with such persons myself; in fact, they are rather numerous. What are you chuckling at, Joe?"
I have bin soakin' away, right and left, since I came to this country, in spite o' warnin's from you and other men like you, and now I feel as if all my boasted strength was goin' out at my heels." Stevenson was silent. "Why don't you say `I told you so?" asked Simkin, sharply. "Because I never say that!
No physical origin for the mysterious disease was found during the two days he devoted to methodic search and secret rite. Then an anticipated discovery rewarded him and made his name thrill among his race. To a condescending white man he told of his skill in these terms: "Two fella him close up finis. Me bin look out camp belonga two fella.
The incident of the dust bin brought on them open ridicule; they became the laughingstock of Shrewsbury.
I daresay he'd a bin Prime Minister in no time- -he's just the sort. They likes a good old muddler for that work someone as has the knack o' addlin' the people's brains an' makin' them see a straight line as though'twere crooked. It keeps things quiet an' yet worrity-like first up, then down this way, then that way, an' never nothin' certain, but plenty o' big words rantin' round.
"Wot's he bin' a doin' of, old man?" inquired Coleman, who was a huge, ruddy, good-humoured coast-guardsman, with the aspect of a lion and the heart of a lamb; whose garments were of the roughest and largest kind, and who was, to adopt a time-honoured phrase, armed to the teeth, that is to say, provided with a brace of pistols, a cutlass, and a port-fire, which last could, on being struck against a rock, burst into flame, and illuminate the region for many yards around him.
"How long has he been in Wilmington?" "Ever sence the fall er Fort Fisher." "Is he a tax payer? Is he or has he ever engaged in any business in the community?" "Well, yes; he owns er whole county up the road there er piece." "Think of it! Bin here all these years, an' we can't make er decent white man out'n him!"
"I've bin thinkin', lad, " Here the captain drew a few whiffs to prevent the pipe from going out, in which operation he evidently forgot himself and went on thinking, for he said nothing more. "Well, uncle, what have you been thinking?" Had she turned in when you left the kitchen?" "Oh yes, an hour or more." "An' Blue Eyes,
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