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'Th' yoong men noo-a-deys, the're poor squashy things the' looke well anoof, but the' woon't wear, the' woon't wear. Theer's ne'er un'll carry his 'ears like that Sir Cris'fer Chuvrell. 'Ull bet ye two pots, said another of the seniors, 'as that yoongster a-walkin' wi' th' parson's wife 'll be Sir Cris'fer's son he fevours him.
"Did Mr. Hingston come back with you? Or, don't tell me anything; don't speak, till you've had something to eat." "I woon't, mother," the boy promised, and then he said, "But you ought to see Philadelphy, mother. It's twenty times as big as Wheeling, Benny says, and all red brick houses and white marble steps."
And I don't believe I'll ever feel at home anywheres else. I woon't know where I am when the trumpet sounds. I have to think before I can tell where the east is in New York; and what if I should git faced the wrong way when I raise? Jacob, I wonder you could sell it!" Her head shook, and the firelight shone on her tears as she searched the folds of her dress for her pocket.
But he will be brought home by-and-by, before night: and you'll just look after him, will you, and give him a reprimand, you know?" "No, I woon't: I'll be dee'd if I'll leather my boy to please you or anybody else, not if you was twenty landlords istid o' one, and that a bad un."
"Ain't there anybody agoin' to set up with it?" she asked, in her hoarse pipe. "It appears like folks hain't got any feelin's in New York. Woon't some o' the neighbors come and offer to set up, without waitin' to be asked?" "Oh, that's all right, mother. The men 'll attend to that. Don't you bother any," Mela coaxed, and she kept her arm round her mother, with tender patience. "Why, Mely, child!
I couldn't help but sell the farm, and we can't go back to it, for it ain't there. So don't you say anything more about it, 'Liz'beth." "Pore Jacob!" said his wife. "Well, I woon't, dear." It was clear to Beaton that Dryfoos distrusted him; and the fact heightened his pleasure in Christine's liking for him.
"Ain't there anybody agoin' to set up with it?" she asked, in her hoarse pipe. "It appears like folks hain't got any feelin's in New York. Woon't some o' the neighbors come and offer to set up, without waitin' to be asked?" "Oh, that's all right, mother. The men 'll attend to that. Don't you bother any," Mela coaxed, and she kept her arm round her mother, with tender patience. "Why, Mely, child!
"Ain't there anybody agoin' to set up with it?" she asked, in her hoarse pipe. "It appears like folks hain't got any feelin's in New York. Woon't some o' the neighbors come and offer to set up, without waitin' to be asked?" "Oh, that's all right, mother. The men 'll attend to that. Don't you bother any," Mela coaxed, and she kept her arm round her mother, with tender patience. "Why, Mely, child!
"Well," said Horace, quite restored to good humor, and speaking with some dignity, "you may laugh at me one kind of a way, but if you mean humph when you laugh, I won't stand it." "Woon't stand it!" echoed Peter Grant; "ain't that Dutch?" "Dutch?" replied Horace: "I'll show you what Dyche is! We have a Dyche teacher come in our school every day, and he stamps his foot and tears round!
I dare sey Sir Cristhifer'll meck a naice thing o' the Manor, an' there woon't be many gentlemen's houses i' the coonthry as'll coom up to't, wi' sich a garden an' pleasure-groons an' wall-fruit as King George maight be prood on. 'Well, I can't think as the house can be better nor it is, Gothic or no Gothic, said Mrs.
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