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Tea, indeed! Fawn-colour, trimmed with sky-blue! If you'd mentioned lobster-salad and sherry, now! Mat. I never tasted lobster-salad. Sus. I have, though; and I do call lobster-salad good. You don't care about your wittles: I do. When I'm hungry, I'm not at all comfortable. Mat. Poor dear Sue! There is a crust in the cupboard. Sus. I can't eat crusts. I want summat nice. I ain't dyin' of 'unger.
But the tender Christ, who wept over a sinful city, and the grave of His friend, who stopped dyin' upon the cross, to comfort his mother's heart, provide for her future it is this element in our Lord's nature that makes us dare to approach Him, dare to kneel at His feet.
"Like our own docthor, he is, the blank, dirty suckers they are! Sure, they'd pull a bung hole out be the roots!" "He's not that way," replied Swipey, "our doctor." "Not much he ain't!" cried Shorty. "But he's into the biggest game with 'Mexico' an' the boys ye ever seen in this camp." "Fer the love av Hivin git him!" cried Tommy. "The man is dyin'. Here, min, let's git him in."
There's an old hymn Mother's dredful fond of, I don't remember how it goes now, but there's one line she keeps repeatin' over an' over till I feel ready to jump. It's this, 'What dyin' wurms we be. So, when she begun her wurm song that mornin' I just let fly. 'Ef I am a wurm, sez I, 'I ain't goin' ter be allers lookin' to see myself squirm! and with that I up and out of the house.
"A soldier o' the legion lay dyin' in Algiers," chanted the captain, and with his shoulders back he strode into the wide world. A meal at the club, and gadzooks but his stomach was in arms! Not a bite since the last club meal. God bless the club! "Get a job?" repeated the captain to one of the members, "I would but the devil take it, how can a man go around asking for a job in a dress suit?
Isn't it a shame, then, for me, an' the likes o' me, that has health an' strength, an' nothin' to do, to see my fellow-creatures dyin' on all hands about me, for want of the very assistance that I can afford them. At any rate, I wouldn't live in the house with that woman, an' you know that, an' that I oughtn't."
I reckon you wouldn't have let your Sammy-Jo into the factory if the heart of you could ha' spoke. Seems like yesterday when I saw them-all totin' Sammy-Jo up The Way to kiss you good-bye, an' him only ten years old an' dyin' o' the hurt o' the wheels." Rose-Lily bowed her head on her work-roughened hands and sobbed miserably.
An' all the rest of his relations was coin' the same thing. Father was always gettin' rich quick, an' he wound up by dyin' in debt. But old Silva never overlooked a bet, no matter how dinky. An' all the rest are just like him. You see outside the fence there, clear to the wheel-tracks in the road horse-beans. We'd a-scorned to do a picayune thing like that. Not Silva.
But no matter; her aunt was bein' reconciled, she used to write me, and when your wife is makin' up to her only livin' relative, and she dyin', it's no time to be exactin'. So she stayed on in the West. I've forgotten where Chicago maybe? too far, anyway, for me to go to her, because I had to stand ready in my business to leave at a minute's notice.
We was stationed in Goulburn then, an' I'll never forget the scenes to me dyin' day. The men used to be stripped to the waist and tied on a triangle and walloped till they was cut to pieces, till they screamed like little children for mercy, and poor old wretches that had roamed the world for sixty years used to screech Mother! Mother! like little children.
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