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Both hands rested on the top of his umbrella, and his attitude was very much that of a man who views a horse he has thoughts of purchasing. 'You are Miss Nancarrow, I think? he said, clearing his throat. 'Christian name, Totty. 'That's me, I believe. 'Jusso! I should like to have a word with you, Miss Nancarrow, if you will allow me. 'You can't say it here, sir? 'Why, no, I can't.

He said, "Yes, sir," and "No, sir," and "Jusso, sir," to everything the policeman said. Dad wished to learn some law. He said: "Now, tell me this: supposing a horse gets into my paddock or into your paddock and I advertise that horse and nobody claims him, can't I put my brand on him?"

'Oh, am I? It was said with a kind of disinterested curiosity. Mr. Barlow, having regarded her fixedly for a moment, bent his head till his forehead rested upon the umbrella, and seemed to brood. 'Don't you feel well, sir? Totty asked, with a naivete which betrayed her impatience. 'Quite well, quite well. 'You was saying something about my uncle's will. 'Jusso!

I letta dissa missiolary man ca'y me jusso far he can. So missiolary man stag' long tem 'long load, an' kep' sweat, sweat semma lika glass ice-wadder; an' Chan Tow kep' gloan semma like ole barn daw." "Chan Tow kept groaning like an old barn door, and the missionary man kept perspiring like a glass of ice-water?" "Oh, no! Missiolary man sweat.

It isn't a question of your marrying, but of two hundred and fifty pounds. 'I don't see what it's got to do with anybody who I choose to marry. 'Jusso, jusso! nothing could be truer. It's only a question of two hundred and fifty pounds. Totty was about to make another indignant remark, but she checked herself.

"Yes! Once he DOES!" drawled one of the men, a weird, withered fellow with a scraggy beard and a reflective turn of mind. "Jusso," Dad went on, "but he must use his HEAD; it's all in th' head." "Where would I be now if I had n't used me head this last season?" He paused for an answer. None came. "LAND!" said the same man "where IS it?" "Where IS it?" Dad warmed up "where IS N'T it?

'No, I haven't, Totty replied. As she spoke, it struck her that there was a broad black band round Mr. Barlow's shiny hat. 'Ah, you haven't; jusso! Mr. Barlow again cleared his throat, looking about the floor as if he were in the habit of living near a spittoon. And then he paused a little, elevating and sinking his bushy eyebrows.

'Jusso! He has been dead nearly a month, and he was ill nearly six. I am appointed one of the executors by his will me and a friend of mine, Mr. Higgins. I dare say you haven't heard of him. We've been putting your late uncle's affairs in order. 'Have you? said Totty, because she had nothing else to say. 'We have. I have come to see you, Miss Nancarrow, because you are interested in the will.

"You have been trying your strength too much." "Wrong!" cried the boy faintly. "It was you give me too much to eat. You ought to have treated me like a doctor would, or as if I was a prisoner, and given me dry bread." "Ah!" sighed Pen. "But where was the bread to come from?" "Jusso," said Punch, with a faint little laugh; "and you can't make bread without flour, can you?