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"'Couldn't you find 'omes for 'em? ses Mr. Bunnett. "Henery Walker shook his 'ead agin. ''Tain't no use thinking o' that, he ses. 'There's more cats than 'omes about 'ere'. Why, Bill Chambers drownded six o'ny last week right afore the eyes of my pore little boy. Upset 'im dreadful it did. "Mr. Bunnett walked up and down the room thinking.

Get 'tuck in de forn, or tumble in de ribber." "But we must go." "No see de way; an' all de big 'gator go out for walk now, Mass' George." "What time can it be?" "Dunno, Mass' George, o'ny know not morrow mornin' yet."

"Lord A'mighty o'ny knows; but 'pears to me marster's never been right in his headpiece since Hollow-eve night, when he took that ride to the Witch's Hut," replied Wool, who, with brush and sponge, was engaged in rejuvenating his master's outer garments.

"'Couldn't you find 'omes for 'em? ses Mr. Bunnett. "Henery Walker shook his 'ead agin. ''Tain't no use thinking o' that, he ses. 'There's more cats than 'omes about 'ere'. Why, Bill Chambers drownded six o'ny last week right afore the eyes of my pore little boy. Upset 'im dreadful it did. "Mr. Bunnett walked up and down the room thinking.

"You can have it," said Boy; "it's clearer than the one you liked the other day." "Thath me!" cried Joy, with a fiendish hop and skip. "Me'n Efel on 'e thidewalk. Mither Burke, you like me'n Efel?" "I like you very much." "Efel too, or o'ny me? Mr. Burke, w'y you don't like Efel too?" Like Ethel the shy little wild flower! Like Ethel! "Say, Mr.

And another gentleman, too; o'ny t'other one come after and went t'other way round. A big zart o' a gentleman wi' 'ands vit vor two. He axed me the zame question, had anybody gone by. This is dree of 'ee as has come zince I've been a zitting here." Guy paid no attention to the second-named gentleman, with the hands fit for two, or to his inquiries after who might have gone before him.

There, lass the airns are aff, and if you'll o'ny put your kershief aroun' your bonnie wrists they'll sune be weel eneugh." "Take me away! take me away from that horrid ol woman!" cried Faustina, turning her wrath upon the dame and appealing to Cuddie. "Whisht! dinna ye mind her. She's a puir dolted auld carline," said Cuddie, in a voice happily too low to reach the ear of said "carline."

"Yus, that's w'ere it is," interrupted Bill. "The o'ny thing is as we might 'ave to knock yer missis axin' pardon; 'er ladyship on the 'ed, bein' a light sleeper, her maid ses, and a bit ov a spitfire, d'ye see?" The judge's ghost attempted to give vent to a cry of indignant horror and forbid the attempt in the most unequivocal way.

All through that week Tode told himself that he would not go to the church again, yet day by day the longing grew to see the bishop's face once more and to hear his voice. "W'at's the use! O'ny makes a feller feel meaner 'n dirt," he said to himself again and again, yet the next Sabbath afternoon found him hanging about St. Mark's hoping that the bishop would ask him in again.

I've sold papers here for three years," cried Tode, angrily. "What you got to say?" The policeman turned to the other. "He give it up. He ain't sold a paper here for a week past," growled Carrots. "Whose beat is it?" The man turned to the other boys as he asked the question. "Reckon it's Tode's." "He's o'ny been layin' off fer a spell." "It's Tode's sure 'nough."