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But the woman, for I could see that it was a woman now, went right straight on, as if she'd made up her mind to pitch head forred into the sea and drown herself the first thing. "This riled me up, and I went on arter her like a tornado, now I tell you.
Dudley had disappeared; but in one of her letters, Meg, writing from her Australian farm, says: 'There's a fella in toon as calls hisself Colbroke, wi' a good hoose o' wood, 15 foot length, and as by 'bout as silling o' the pearler o' Bartram only lots o' rats, they do say, my lady a bying and sellin' of goold back and forred wi' the diggin foke and the marchants.
Jan. 1, 186-Had an awful time in school today. me and Cawcaw Harding set together. when we came in from resess Cawcaw reached over and hit me a bat, and i lent him one in the snoot, and he hit me back. we was jest fooling, but old Francis called Cawcaw up front to lick him. i thought if i went up and told him he wood say, noble boy go to your seat, i wont lick neether of you. anyway i knew that Cawcaw wood tell on me, and so i told old Francis i hit Cawcaw first, and old Francis said Harry i have had my eye on you for a long time, and he jest took us up and slammed us together, and then he wood put me down and shake Cawcaw and then he wood put Cawcaw down and shake me till my head wabbled and he turned me upside down and all the fellers looked upside down and went round and round and somehow i felt silly like and kind of like laffin. i dident want to laff but coodent help it. and then he talked to us and sent us to our seats and told us to study, and i tried to but all the words in the book went round and round and i felt awful funny and kind of wabbly, and when i went home mother said something was the matter and i told her and then i cried, i don't know what i cried for, becaus i dident ake any. father said he wood lick me at home when i got licked at school and perhaps that was why i cried. ennyway when father come home i asked him if he was a going to lick me and he said not by a dam sight, and he gave me ten cents and when i went to bed i got laffin and crying all to once, and coodent stop, and mother set in my room and kept her hand on my forred until i went to sleep. i drempt i was fiting all the time. when i get big enuf there is going to be a fite between me and old Francis, you see if there aint.
Winthrop; but he seemed deeply interested, judging from his attitude and expression, in tying up a branch of an overburdened pear tree; but he kept his face turned steadily towards me all the time, I could not help observing. "What shall I do?" I whispered to Mrs. Blake. "Tell them to come forred and fill their baskets."
But as fer botany, who ever heerd of it helpin' a man to manage a farm, or a woman to sew, cook or make butter? Now, look at me, Mrs. Larkins. I never studied botany, an' behold my bizness. I don't know a bit about botany, an' here I'm runnin' fer a Councillor, an' lookin' forred to the Local House. No, no, this botany bizness is all nonsense." "But," remonstrated Mrs.
"I suppose wimmin folks are a trifle more timid than men folks about putting themselves forred," he remarked, "but when it comes to thoughtfulness you can't get 'em beat.
Lors knows ef I don't fetch up a whole heap o' wittels ebery night for Miss Caterpillar from dis time forred, so I will 'deed me!" So they went on through the long passages and empty rooms. Capitola carefully locking every door behind her until she got down-stairs into the great hall.
Well, I had a special frolic there the last time I passed this way. I lost the linch pin out of my forred axle, and I turned up there to get it sot to rights.
You must 'a done it so no lies; for that wur the on'y thing as ever skeared 'er, arstin' 'er about 'er father, pore dear....Why, man alive! what are you a-gurnin' at? an' what are you a-smackin' your forred wi' your 'and like that for, an' a-gurnin' in my face like a Chessy cat? Blow'd if I don't b'lieve you're drunk. An' who the dickens are you a-callin' a fool, Mr. Imperance?
He examined it with care and fixed the man with his gaze: "Well, sir?" "Hit's the rekyle, sir," he explained softly. "Hit's the way she's hung on the stock." "Oh " "Ye see, sir," he went on earnestly, "a gun ought not to rekyle, and ef hit rekyles at all, hit ought to rekyle a leetle forred " "Right you are!" the President roared with laughter. "Your logic's sound whether your gun kicks or not.
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