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"Now then, ladies, off the step! Any room for a lil calf' in the straw with you, missy? Freckened? Tut! Only a lil calf, as clane as clane and breath as swate as your own, miss. There you are it'll be lying quiet enough till we get to Douglas. All ready? Ready we are then. Collar work now, gentlemen. Aise the horse, sir. Thank you! Thank you! Not you, your Honour sit where you are, Dempster."
Christian Ann wanted to know if he wasn't "freckened" to be there, "not being used of Kings," whereupon he cried: "What! Frightened of another man and a stunning good one, too!" I suppose I must have laughed at that, for the next I heard was: "Hush! Isn't that Mary!" "Aw, yes, the poor veg veen," said a sad voice. It was Christian Ann's.
The man wiped his face with his muddy hand and uttered a low groan. "Well, go on," cried Ramball. "What next?" "Don't hurry me, master, please," said the man piteously. "I'm shook all to pieces, and feel that freckened that I could sit down and cry.
'The ould gandher was the first out, and the priest and Terence kem next, pantin' an' blowin' an' more than half dhrounded, an' his Raverince was so freckened wid the droundin' he got, and wid the sight iv the sperit, as he consaved, that he wasn't the better of it for a month.
An' whinever he went apast my father, he thought he felt a great scent of brimstone, an' it was that that freckened him entirely; for he knew it was brimstone that was burned in hell, savin' your presence. At any rate, he often heer'd it from Father Murphy, an' he had a right to know what belonged to it he's dead since, God rest him.
An' whinever he went apast my father, he thought he felt a great scent of brimstone, an' it was that that freckened him entirely; for he knew it was brimstone that was burned in hell, savin' your presence. At any rate, he often heerd it from Father Murphy, an' he had a right to know what belonged to it he's dead since, God rest him.
"Yes," he faltered. "Could you take me to the grave?" Philip gasped; the sweat broke out on his forehead. "Don't be freckened, sir," said Pete; "I'm my own man again. Could you take me to my wife's grave?" "Yes," said Philip. He was in the rapids. He was on the edge of precipitation. He was compelled to go over. He made a blindfold plunge. Lie on lie; lie on lie!
You've suffered since you left me, Kate. He has dragged you down a dale but tell me, do you love him still?" She shuddered and crept closer to the wall. "Don't be freckened. It's a woman's way to love the man that's done wrong by her. Being good to her is nothing sarvice is nothing kindness is nothing. Maybe there's some ones that cry shame on her for that but not me.
"But any way there's no use in bein' freckened now," says he; "for if I am to die, I may as well parspire undaunted," says he. 'Well, your honour, he thried to keep himself quite an' asy, an' he thought two or three times he might have wint asleep, but for the way the storm was groanin' and creakin' through the great heavy branches outside, an' whistlin' through the ould chimleys iv the castle.
"It's a wonder she didn't come home for all," said Pete at Philip's ear "at the end, you know. Couldn't face it out, I suppose? Nothing to be afraid of, though, if she'd only known. I had kept things middling straight up to then. And I'd have broke the head of the first man that'd wagged a tongue. But maybe it was myself she was freckened of! Freckened of me! Poor thing! poor thing!"
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