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The tattoo was screamin' in chune wid Benira Thrigg an' Bhuldoo's army, an' the shticks was whistlin' roun' the hekka, an' Orth'ris was beatin' the hekka-cover wid his fistes, an' Learoyd yellin', 'Look out for their knives! an' me cuttin' into the dark, right an' lef', dishpersin' arrmy corps av Pathans. Holy Mother av Moses! 'twas more disp'rit than Ahmid Kheyl wid Maiwund thrown in.
"He might ha' broke his legs climbin' disp'rit on the rocks," said Mrs. Fottrel, unconvinced by the argument from unsaleability," and be lyin' there now waitin' for the say-waves to wash the life out of him. Heaven pity the crathur!" "Sure, I 'll step down and see what's gone wid him," said Mick.
And then I tumbled th' ould cat out of the basket, that was scrawmin' and yowlin' disp'rit, and I took and slung the basket into the sthrame there's the handle among them rushes and down I sat under the bank.
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