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Updated: June 25, 2025
"I often wonder how them white-faced fellows in the settlements manage to keep body and soul together a-sittin', as they do, all day in the house, and a-lyin' all night in a feather bed. For my part, rather than live as they do, I would cut my way up streams like them we've just passed every day and all day, and sleep on top of a flat rock o' nights, under the blue sky, all my life through."
"It's hard work this yere," he panted, shivering with cold in spite of his fever, "but it's better than a-lyin' thar doin' nothin'." At length he heard steps. They were the running, stamping feet of a boy who whistled as he came. Stamps opened the door and whistled himself a whistle of summons and appeal.
Sometimes, a-lyin' here on my back, with my head full o' sounds, and the hot wind and the salt sea-smell a-comin' in through the winders, and the poor fellers groanin' overhead, I get clear away back to that night, so cool and sweet; the air full of treely smells, dead leaves like, and white-blows in the ma'sh below; and wood-robins singin' clear fine whistles in the woods; and the big sweet-brier by the winder all a-flowered out; and the drippin' little beads of dew on the clover-heads; and the tinklin' sound of the mill-dam down to Squire Turner's mill.
We'uns air Babtists ourselves, but, thank the Lord, not o' your kind. Babtists air honest people. Babtists don't go about the country robbin' and murderin' and stealin' folks' corn. Don't tell me you air a Babtist, for I know you air a-lyin', and that's the next thing to killin' and stealin'."
So I was a-lyin', missis, you see, by a sort o' chance like, when I said he said no names. 'Cos he did. He said his own. Not but what he goes by the name of Wix." "What does he want of old Mrs. Prichard now?" "A screw. Sov'rings, if he can get 'em. Otherwise bobs, if he can't do no better." "Mrs. Prichard has no money." "He says she has and he giv' it her.
He rubbed at his legs, and then he tried to wipe his face with his wet coat-sleeve, but finding that only made matters worse, he accepted Harry's offer of his handkerchief, and soon got his countenance into talking order. "Why, you see," said he, "I kept on up the creek till I got opposite John Walker's cabin, where it's narrow, and there's a big tree a-lyin' across "
"Now, Tom D'Willerby," she said, "none of your foolin'. This yere ain't no time for it." "Mars D'Willerby," said Aunt Mornin, "dis chile's mother's a-lyin' dead in the nex' room." Tom stooped a trifle lower. He put out both his hands and took the baby in them. "I'm not foolin'," he said, rather uncertainly. "I'm in earnest, ladies. The mother is dead and the man's going away.
Hyeh's yer chance!" The girl shrank away from him, too startled to take the weapon; and he leaned it against her, and stood away, with his hands behind him. "Kill me ef ye think I'm a-lyin' to ye," he said. "Y'u kin git even with me now.
"Sergeant Casey, sir. He's a-lyin' there." "Ambulance? Certainly. The howitzer perhaps they're only flesh wounds. I hope they are only flesh wounds. I must have more men you'll come with me."
"Wal, I reckon I hadn't ben thar more'n half an hour, when I heared a screech that fairly lifted my hat off my head, a-comin' from th' open valley, jest beyont th' trees whar I was a-lyin' in th' shade, an' a-soundin' like sum feller was gittin' hurt mortal bad.
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