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You men folks, cut orf them pirattercal whiskers, burn up them infurnel pamplits, put sum weskuts on, go to work choppin wood, splittin fence rales, or tillin the sile." I pored 4th my indignashun in this way till I got out of breth, when I stopt. I shant go to Berlin Hites agin, not if I live to be as old as Methooseler.
Is it wan o' thim big Jarmyn guns youse have got in there, that the pa-apers do be tillin' erbout?" He was a comical looking old fellow at best, and out here at this early hour, with only his trousers slipped on over his calico nightshirt, and heelless slippers on his feet, he cut a curious figure indeed. Mr.
"After the war I tried to surrender. I wanted to quit and live a decent life. But no, they put a bigger price on my head. I came home like other soldiers an' went to tillin' my farm. They ran me away they hunted an' hounded me. Civilization turned ag'in me. Society was my foe. I was up ag'in the fust law of Nature. It is the law of the survival the wild beast that, cowered, fights for his life.
Ruth could not allow the occurrence to end without an explanation. She ran to the fence and peered over. "Oh, Mr. Murphy!" she cried. "You're not really hurt?" "For the love av mercy!" ejaculated the cobbler. "Niver tell me that youse was the one that pushed the pig through the fince that har-rd that he kem near flyin' down me t'roat? Ye niver could have done it, Miss Kenway don't be tillin' me.
"One minute," she panted. "Just one! I have loved you all me life, me man. I niver loved any one but you. I niver wanted any one but you. I niver hoped for any Hivin better than I knew I'd find in your arms. There was a mistake. There was an awful mistake, when I married Jimmy. I'm not tillin' you now, and I niver will, but you must realize that! Do you understand me?" "Hardly," breathed Dannie.
It stade in the Barril. He sed this was a Mistery, but it wasn't misterior than is this thing I'm speekin of. As fur Brignoly, Ferri and Junky, they air dowtless grate, but I think sich able boddied men wood look better tillin the sile than dressin theirselves up in black close & white kid gluvs & shoutin in a furrin tung.
Don't see no signs of tillin'. He ain't fencin', nor goin' to fence, as near as I can find out." "Cattle?" "No. Nor horses." "Hogs, then?" "No." "Damn it! maybe it's sheep!" and the red flush rose in the bully's dark cheeks. "Don't think so. Seems like he's after somethin', but what it is I can't make out."
"Begorrah, Oi hev sane hoondreds!" "Lor'!" exclaimed the simpleton, evidently impressed by this bold assertion of my chum, "tell us, mate, wot they's like." This was enough for Mick. "Ye won't be froightened, sure," he began, in a very solemn tone, the more to impress the anxious listener, "if Oi'm afther tillin' ye the whole thruth, now?" "Frightened!
"I suppose fishing is your principal occupation here," continued Albert, seeing that sentiment was not considered by Uncle Terry; "your land does not seem adapted for cultivation." "There ain't much chance for tillin'," he replied; "the land's wuss'n whar I was brung up down in Connecticut, an' thar we had ter round up the sheep once a week an' sharpen thar noses on the grin'stun!
An' here she's tillin' me now that she's niver heard nothin' 'bout it from the Judge an' she's been payin' the interest right along, an' would a been turned out by him if it han't a bin fer you, sir. An' me wid no writin' nor nothin' to show for the good money I paid him. Now, ain't that a hell of a thing, sir?
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