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I soon foun' my gal, an' arfter tellin' her two or three lies 'bout herse'f, I got her to go in an' ax Miss Anne to come to de do'. When she come, I gi' her de note, an' arfter a little while she bro't me anurr, an' I tole her good-bye, an' she gi' me a dollar, an' I come home an' gi' de letter to Marse Chan.

At the Bowery the loves of "Sweet William," "When on the Downs the fleet was moor'd," always bro't an encore, and sometimes a treble. The great "Egyptian Collection" was well up in Broadway, and I got quite acquainted with Dr.

Young Southwell, the signal midshipman stationed at the solitary look-out on the south head of Port Jackson, shall tell the rest of the story: The Supply bro't an account that on the 19th of March about noon the Sirius had, in course of loading the boats, drifted rather in with the land.

I didn't exactly know what to do, and was just on the point of doin it, when a upper winder suddenly opened, and a stream of hot water was bro't to bear on the disorderly crowd, who took the hint and retired at once. When I am taken by surprise with another serenade, I shall, among other arrangements, have a respectful company on hand. So no more from me to-day. When this you see, remember me.

Eliza looked at her open-mouthed for a moment. "Tell me, Anna," she said, as she put her hands on her shoulders, "was th' han' that bro't home trouts fur th' childther God's han' too?" "Aye, 'deed it was." "Oh, glory be t' God thin I'm at pace isn't it gran' t' think on isn't it now?" Eliza Conlon abruptly terminated the conversation by announcing that all was ready for the wake.

Wal, y' see you come along in the storm, an' what should happen but the side o' Devil's Hill drops out, an' sets gold rollin' around like like taters fallin' through a rotten sack. 'Gold? sez we, an' gold it is. 'Who bro't us sech luck? we asts. An' ther' it is right ther', so ther' can't be no mistake. Jest a pore, sick gal wi' red ha'r, all beat to hell an' "

I soon foun' my gal, an' arfter tellin' her two or three lies 'bout herse'f, I got her to go in an' ax Miss Anne to come to de do'. When she come, I gi' her de note, an' arfter a little while she bro't me anudder, an' I tole her good-by, an' she gi' me a dollar, an' I come home an' gi' de letter to Marse Chan.

"Say, guess I kind o' fixed the hosses diff'rent. Our hosses. Bro't 'em up an' stood 'em in the angle wher' this corral joins the next one. Seems better; more handy-like. It's sheltered, an' ther's a bit of a sharp breeze. One o' them early frosts." He looked up at the sky. "Guess ther' didn't ought. Ther' ain't no moon till nigh on daylight. Howsum, ther' ain't no argyfyin' the weather."

The crowd closed in with necks craning to observe the wonderful nugget of gold; to the finding of its kind their lives were devoted. Beasley was at Pete's elbow, the greediest of them all. "It wasn't no scrapin' an' scratchin' luck," the enthusiastic Pete hurried on. "It was gold in hunks you bro't us." Beasley's eyes lit, and Buck, watching closely, edged in.

But I soon got the hang o' the talk in the hospital. Well, ez I wuz sayin', I've allus been in hospitals firs' one, then anuther. I got well, en the sojers call me Yankee Blank en set me waitin' on sick uns en the wounded. That's what I'm a-doin' now." "You were in Southern hospitals?" "I reckon. They called the place Richman." "Why did you come here?" "Kaze I wuz bro't yere.