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There's Maister Jacka's John-Willy would be proud to dance wi' I!" "So you're fond of dancing, Phoebe?" asked the Parson. "Sure 'nough! Dancen' and singen' that's life, that is. Ef you can't dance and sing I don't see no good in liven'! I don't hold wi' chaps who think of nawthen but wanten' to be saved. Time 'nough for that when gettin' on for thirty!"
"Well, Mahstah Majah, Genevieve she cyahed a raght smaht fo' me, also, an' she mek it up fo' me t' come along t' town with huh. She sais Ah git a mewl an' a fahm an' thousan' dollehs money fum yo' Nawthen President an' we all live lahk th' quality.
She sauntered away across the yard, but turned her head as she reached the far end, and glanced back at Ishmael. He hesitated, pride fighting with longing; then he also began to saunter aimlessly at first; then, giving up the struggle, he frankly followed her. Lenine chuckled softly. "Talk o' the way o' a man wi' a maid 'tes nawthen to the way o' a maid wi' a man, is it, Passon?
I knaw it was no use askin' old Garge, 'cos he'd pretend not to hear, so I turned to the young womon sittin' opposite, and asked her if she had a match in her pocket. And do you knaw, I declare to gudeness she never said nawthen, not so much as a word!" "Perhaps she was dumb?" Barrant suggested. "Aw, iss, doomb enough then," retorted Mr. Portgartha.
Then, afraid lest Phoebe should taunt him with his fear: "But I'll come and see the pigs, though I don't s'pose they're as fine as ours. They were ringed yesterday was a week, and even the piggy-widden's bigger than most pigs." "Ours is bigger, ours is bigger!" cried Phoebe indignantly, "and you'm nawthen but a gëat coward, Ishmael Ruan. I don't want my pigs to set eyes on 'ee!"
"Come and tak' th' arse to meadow for your brother, instead of wasten' the marnen'. Couldn' 'ee be gleanen' in th' arish? You may be gentry, but you'll go starve if you do naught but twiddle your thumbs for the day." "Lave en be, lave en be, mother," said Archelaus Beggoe impatiently. "Women's clacken' never mended matters nawthen. It'll be a good day, sure 'nough, when he goes to school to St.
Mahstah Cunnel he daid by th' hand o' yo' Nawthen President at th' battle a' Seven Pines, an' Mahstah Cap'n Bev'ly Glentwo'th yo' ole Mahstah Gen'al She'dan shoot him all t' pieces in his chest one day.
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