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Updated: May 9, 2025
This is your home, Ruthie; ye ain't got nary 'nother don't fergit that. And yer old A'nt Alviry'll be waitin' for ye here, an' jest longin' for the time when ye come home." Ruth kissed her again and again. Two excited young voices called to her from the automobile. "Come on! Come on, Ruth. Do come away!"
A'nt I able t' s'port m'own fam'ly, I'd like t' know?" muttered the drunken wretch, as he fell a loathsome heap upon the straw in the corner of the room.
"'Deed then, crown pieces a'nt that plenty in the counthry, these days, Father John; the likes of them" and he put half-a-crown in the plate "are scarce enough." The speaker was an old man, rather decently dressed in knee-breeches and gaiters; he was one of those who, even in bad times, manage by thrift and industry to get, among the poor, the reputation of comparative wealth.
Toims 'ee goes off stamrin' and starin' at nowt, as if 'ee a'nt a n'aporth o' sense. How'siver I be doing my duty by 'em and 'ere's 'is porritch when a' cooms 'gin a' be sick or maad." What the American understood of the girl's speech and manner struck her as having very little sympathy with either her aged relative or her present visitor.
"Who'd you hire? Perez don't, seemin'ly, take to M'lissy, and there ain't nobody else in Orham that you could git, 'less 'twas old A'nt Zuby Higgins, and that would be actin' like the feller that jumped overboard when his boat sprung a leak. No, sir! If A'nt Zuby ships aboard here I heave up MY commission." "Who said anything about A'nt Zuby or housekeepers either?" inquired Captain Perez.
"The ould fellow knows me A'nt Bridget had a nice little fortun', an' I'll engage he made sure the three of yous has a share in the business." "Young nieces," soliloquised Matilda, looking pensively at Bridget and Mary. "Young daughters, too, if ye please," returned Bridget with spirit, and her glance fell upon Juliana. "Well, go on, Ju, finish it," said Mrs. McNally, laughing immoderately.
The question was put to the host, who was shuffling down the hall to meet him. The Squire slashed the dogs silent with his half-hunter to catch the reply. "Please, y'r honour," said the host, "we've copped Swift Nicks." "By G ! You a'nt!" "We 'an," declared the host. "Hurrah!" roared the Squire. "That's news! I owe you a guinea for it, Jack."
"I did some flittin' about that little old burg on my own hook," he informed us, "and what I got to say is, it needs wakin' up. Yes, sir, a bunch of live ones from the U.S.A. would shake up that little old graveyard so you wouldn't know it. I might have took a hand in it myself, if I hadn't have met up with Miss Browne and your a'nt. Yes, sir, I had a slick little proposition or two up my sleeve.
"Oh! part of the fortune, was it? Trust Denis, he'll look to that; is it the pigs, eh, Denis?" "No, Father John, it jist a'nt the pigs," said Mary. "Come, what is it? out with it Denis." "Sorrow a one of me knows what you're talking about," said Denis. "It a'nt the calf at last, Denis, is it?"
Now, 'oo are YOU? "She rattled off a name that had more double j'ints in it than an eel. "'Lordy! says I; 'we never can larn that rigamarole. I tell you! She looks for all the world like old A'nt Lobelia Fosdick at home down on Cape Cod. Let's call her that. "'She looks to me like the mother of a oysterman I used to know in Liverpool. 'Is name was 'Ankins.
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