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There aint no sich thing. But jackass or no, I'm of a mind to think there is such things as both the 'Daura' an' the 'Secta Croa, if I on'y knew the English of 'em. An' s'posin' I ivir found 'em "
I'm a sober man, not a temperance man!" "Ay! We'd a parzon in these 'ere parts as was temp'rance, but 'e took 'is zpirits different like! 'E zkorned 'is glass, but 'e loved 'is gel! Har ar ar! Ivir 'eerd o' Parzon Arbroath as woz put out o' the Church for 'avin' a fav'rite?" "I saw something about it in the papers," said Helmsley. "Ay, 'twoz in the papers. Har ar ar! 'E woz a temp'rance man.
"Musha, good gracious! sure, all I done was to bid the spalpeen be keepin' an eye on her now and agin while he would be playin' about there," said Joe; "and it's twinty chances if ivir he did at all. Trapesed off wid himself somewheres; he'll be right enough be this time. 'T is n't the likes of him to go to loss, it's the quare five-poun' note he'd fetch at Athenry fair."
"Well, if y'ave 'ad it ivir so bad, yer 'xperience aint every one's," retorted Peke. "If one fly gits into the soup, that don't argify that the hull pot 's full of 'em. An' there's more good wimin than bad takin' 'em all round an' includin' 'op pickers, gypsies an' the like.
An' ye may take 'art o' grace for one thing them as marries young settles quickly old an' to look at the skin an' the 'air an' the eyes of ye, you beat ivery gel I've ivir seen in the twenties, so there's good preservin' stuff in ye wot'll last. An' I bet you're more fond o' the man ye've got late than if ye'd caught 'im early!" Mary laughed, but her eyes were full of wistful tenderness.
"I love him very dearly," she said simply "And I know he's a great deal too good for me." Mrs. Twitt sniffed meaningly. "Well, I'm not in any way sure o' that," she observed. "When a man's too good for a woman it's what we may call a Testymen' miracle. For the worst wife as ivir lived is never so bad as a bad 'usband.
Then he went tenderly up to his wife, and took her and Sandy into the library. The sound of Cecile's wails could be heard in the distance. The frightened Reuben turned and looked at his wife. She had grown paler even than before, but her eyes were all alive. 'A racklesome, natterin' creetur as ivir I seed, she said calmly; 'I allus telt tha, Reuben Grieve, what hoo'd coom to.
"Wal, Beauty Stanton, shure yez hev a cleaner grave than yez hed a bed.... Nice white desert sand.... An' prisintly no man will ivir know where yez come to lay." The laborers shouldered their spades and plodded away. The wind blew steadily in from the desert seeping the sand in low, thin sheets. Afternoon waned, the sun sank, twilight crept over the barren waste.
In the same way the flower of the secta croa brings a hundred years to those who use it, whether they be of lesser or of longer age. I've been on the 'unt for the 'Daura' iver since I was twenty, an' I've arskt ivery 'yerber I've ivir met for the 'Secta Croa, an' all I've 'ad sed to me is 'Go 'long wi' ye for a loony jackass!
We want food, and a passage home, for which we will pay." "Well, if ivir I heerd of de like of dat! Come aboord, my men. De captain's sick, but dere's plinty to ate here, and ye won't mind close quarters, after your vige on de ice." "No, indeed, sir!" said La Salle. "Tumble up, my men. Take your guns and your coats with you. Here, Nep; up that ladder, sir. That's right.
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