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McCarty's distracted feelings. 'Hard-fisted Sall' came to take a last look at poor English; and she said she would spend her last shilling over poor English, and having one, it would get a drop, and a drop dropped into the right place would do Mrs. McCarty a deal of good. "And Mrs.
So in Scotland witches used to raise the wind by dipping a rag in water and beating it thrice on a stone, saying: "I knok this rag upone this stane To raise the wind in the divellis name, It sall not lye till I please againe." In Greenland a woman in child-bed and for some time after delivery is supposed to possess the power of laying a storm.
"The duke is a real Scotsman a true friend to the country," answered Saddletree's hearers. "Ay, troth is he, to king and country baith, as ye sall hear," continued the orator, "if ye will come in bye to our house, for it's safest speaking of sic things inter parietes."
She was thinking of her sadly missed comrade, Jack. "Happen some day, perhaps, one too many." The maiden was almost too innocent to blush; but her father took her part as usual. "The little lass sall gaw doon," he said, "wheniver sha likes." And so she went down the next morning.
"If you do so more agin, you sall go separate," said the turnkey. The mere thought of separation at such a moment struck like a chill to the hearts of the sailors, who forthwith shook hands, and vowed earnestly that they would "never do it again." In order to conciliate the man, Ben took up the umbrella, and pointing to the beautifully carved handle said
Then, again, in the roof of Sall Church, Norfolk, shown in Plate IV, you have a noble piece of carpentry which is as much the work of an artist as the carved figures and tracery which adorn it indeed it is all just as truly carved work as those figures, being chopped out of the solid oak with larger tools, ax and adze, so that one knows not which to admire most, carved angels or carved carpentry.
Commodore's Cockswain. . . Joe Bunk, of the Launch. Old Luff . . . . . . . Quarter-master Coffin. Mayor . . . . . . . . Seafull, of the Forecastle. PERCY ROYAL-MAST . . . . JACK CHASE. Mrs. Lovelorn . . . . . Long-locks, of the After-Guard. Toddy Moll . . . . . . Frank Jones. Gin and Sugar Sall. . . . Dick Dash.
And the innocence of her face being gone, she went lowly and humbly, paying for Essy, Essy's debt of shame. That was her view. "Sall I set the tae here, Miss Gwanda," she enquired. "Sence doctor isn't coomin'?" "How do you know he isn't coming?" Alice asked. Mrs. Gale's face was solemn and oppressed. She turned to Gwenda, ignoring Alice. "'Aven't yo 'eerd, Miss Gwanda?"
I am sure ye sall aye be my lord wi' honest folk, as your noble ancestors hae been these three hundred years, and never asked a Whig's leave. Sorry to see the Lord of Ravenswood at ane o' his ain castles!
I would not have you to think that a whole country of people are appointed only to uphold the grandeur of five or six men. No, they are ordained to be magistrates for your good. And sall we think that a ministry shines into a land for the upholding of the grandeur of some few persons.
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