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Some woman's hand is in this." Lil picked one up and looked at it curiously: "Well, they are nicely done: no sewing-machine work here. And see, aunty, here are initials."
I wish she'd mind 'er own business, an' clean up the 'ouse. W'en my mother was alive, you could eat yer dinner off the floor, but Sarah's too delicate for 'ousework. She'd 'ave married the greengrocer, but she was too delicate to wait in the shop. We niver see a bit o' fresh meat in the 'ouse, an' if yer say anythin' she bursts into tears, an' sez somethin' nasty about Lil.
"Poor Lady Markham! poor little Lil!" he said in a low voice. "What will they say?" "Yes, and your mother, Master Fred, sir; she'll be terribly cut up too." "Well, Fred, my lad," said a grave voice, "have you, too, come to see?" Fred started round, to find that his father was leaning against one of the fine old beeches with his arms folded, gazing at the still smoking ruins.
An' bring Mister Jan back long very quick, 'cause I'm nothin' but sadness wi'out en. An', dear St. Madern, I ax 'e to bless me same as you done when when I was a lil baaby, 'cause I be gwaine to bathe in your brook, bein' a St. Madern cheel. Oh, dear, good God o' all things, please to help me an' look to me, 'cause I be very sad, an' I never done no harm to none, for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen."
"Ah, I know a lil 'bout him," said Monsieur Vigo; "he was on my boat two days ago, asking me questions." "The devil he was!" said Mr. Marshall. I had another disquieting night, and by the morning I had made up my mind. The sun was glinting on the placid waters of the river when I made my way down to the bank, to a great ten-oared keel boat that lay on the Bear Grass, with its square sail furled.
Many of you have come into this very Park to-night without any object, driven by the wish for something to take you out of your miseries. Can you deny it, I say?" A tall soldier who was standing near Craven looked down at the plump girl beside him and said: "How's that, Lil? We're both jolly miserable, ain't we?" "Go along with yer! Not me!" was the response, with an impudent look.
She brought them home that night. Caroline had grown tired and, lighting the lamp, had gone home. "I done brung my little lady bird huh somep'n nice," said Martha, "here's a lil' doll and de lil' shoes, honey. How's de baby feel?" Lucy did not answer. "You sleep?" Martha went over to the bed. The little face was pinched and ashen. The hands were cold. "Lucy! Lucy!" called the mother. "Lucy!
"Hurt much?" said my father, pressing his finger and thumb on the wound at the back and palm of the boy's hand. "Um tickle, sah: dat all. Pomp tought you cut um arm off. Hi! You dah," he shouted excitedly; "you wait till Pomp get lil bit of rag round um hand, you see how I serb you. Yah! You big coward Injum tief."
She've been the cherub aloft for me ever since I strained my eyes glazin' for the last peep o' Carnwall when us sailed. How be my lil Joan?" The other started, sat up in his chair and gripped the left arm of it, while his right hand extended before him and he jolted it curiously with all the fingers pointing down. "Joan Joan?
"You know Johnny Spreen is really a bound boy, and he has to work for the farmer until he gets a certain age, when he is supposed to be given a sum of money, and be his own boss. That's the law." "Well, all I hope is that we pick up some decent clue around here," said Lil Artha; "Yes, and a bully supper in the bargain, that'll fill a horrible vacuum, and put us all in fighting condition."
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