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'O' course, he's crossways time and again, and a devil's temper. 'You mustn't speak of your father like that, Hazel. 'What for not? He be like that. 'Are all these apple-trees yours? he asked to change the subject. 'No, they'm father's. But I get the windfa'ls and the bruised 'uns. I allus see' she smiled winningly 'as there's plenty of them. Foxy likes 'em.
You mustn't worry now God'll make everything right to them that loves him even to the happy death. You'll die happy an' be happy with him forever. The little 'uns an' the father, you know they're fixed here in this nice home an' the farm so don't worry." "That's it!.... Oh, that's it!.... I got it that way ... all for them ... but it's that that hurts now...."
The "little uns" addressed were Marty and Tommy, boys of nine and seven, in little fustian tailed coats and knee-breeches, relieved by rosy cheeks and black eyes, looking as much like their father as a very small elephant is like a very large one.
He and I pulled some good 'uns out of there, last year." Eventually they reached their objective. At this point the force of the current had gradually, with the years, scooped out a large, semicircular portion of the shelving bank.
Ef I've 'sulted yer, 'pon my dirty soul I'll beg yer double-barrelled pardon. Please don't yer go to complainin' on me. For ef I'd lose my place, my wife and young 'uns 'ud starve to death in no time. I oughter knowed better then to sass you anyhow, when I seed how good and purty ye wuz!" "Please don't leave us! don't leave us, Miss Agnes, for you've been our Good Angel.
I don't conceit it'll make much of a show, fur what might be good fur a man won't be of sarvice to a woman; and as fur the leetle uns, I don't know ef I've got a single thing but vict'als that'll fit 'em. Lord! ef I was near the settlements, I might swap a dozen skins fur jest what I wanted to give 'em; but I'll git the basket out, and look round and see what I've got."
It seems that Miss Betty Vivian has lost a parcel, and she be that fretted about it that she's nigh to death, and the little uns have promised to get it back for her; and, poor children! they've set me on the job, and how ever I'm to do it I don't know." "I think perhaps I can help you," said Sibyl suddenly. "I'll tell you this much, Farmer Miles.
You couldn't be ashamed of being in our regiment. I know what it was you ran away from home?" "It was no longer home to me, Punch." "Why, didn't you live there?" "Yes; but it didn't seem like home any longer. It was like this, Punch. My father and mother had died." "Oh," said the boy softly, "that's bad. Very good uns, waren't they?" Pen bowed his head. "Then it waren't your home any longer?"
"She seemed to like having me there at last; but her sons say she doesn't like young women about her commonly; and I thought just at first she was almost angry with me for going." "Eh, it's a poor look-out when th' ould folks doesna like the young uns," said old Martin, bending his head down lower, and seeming to trace the pattern of the quarries with his eye.
Martin, who already had been doing a man's work, now assumed a man's responsibilities. Mrs. Wade consulted more and more with him, relied more and more upon his judgment. She was immensely proud of him, of his steadiness and dependability, but at rare moments, remembering her own normal childhood, she would think with compunction: "It ain't right. Young 'uns ought to have some fun.
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