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Updated: June 23, 2025
A pig may poke his nose into the trough and think o' nothing outside it; but if you've got a man's heart and soul in you, you can't be easy a-making your own bed an' leaving the rest to lie on the stones. Nay, nay, I'll never slip my neck out o' the yoke, and leave the load to be drawn by the weak uns. Father's a sore cross to me, an's likely to be for many a long year to come. What then?
I shouldn't wonder if that was what they've had a fresh row about. She's p'raps gone away, an's made up her mind not to come back again. 'An' i' the right on't, too, said Betty. 'I'd ha' overrun him long afore now, if it had been me. I wouldn't stan' bein' mauled as she is by no husband, not if he was the biggest lord i' the land.
Whereat An's purple eyes broadened with wonder: then as though she would not be uncivil she checked herself, and answered with smothered pity for my ignorance, "Not only Hath himself, but every one, stranger, they are all married tomorrow; you would not have them married one at a time, would you?" this with inexpressible derision.
He war lost, I b'lieve, an's been all of a tremble iver sin'. Come, gi' us your basket an' come behind and let me put y' in."
"I do believe," remarked Rokens, looking gravely at his shipmate, "that the feller's had an attack of the mollygrumbles, an's got better all of a suddint." "No, massa, dat not it. But me willin' to go wid you now to de sea." "Eh? willin' to go? Why, Nippi-Too-Cumble, wot a rum customer you are, to be sure!" "Yis, massa," rejoined the negro.
It had been Mock's talk of deserting in France that had caused Braun to talk to Mock, who had been told by Captain Prescott to talk in that vein while in the bull-pen. Braun had fallen into the trap. As for Wilhelm -which wasn't the young an's real name -he was the son of a German-born father, but a young man of known loyalty to the United States.
"Halloo there!" he shouted, and then bent his head sideways to listen; the children also looked over the side, deeply interested. "Halloo there! Are y'aslape? Oh, there y'are! Here's a spalpeen with a dhirty face, an's wishful to wash it; may I take a bailin' tin of Oh, thank your 'arner, thank your 'arner good day to you, and my respects." "What did the shark say, Mr Button?" asked Emmeline.
"This woman's kin wouldn't like her to demean herself to a common carpenter." "Tchu!" said Ben, with a long treble intonation, "what's folks's kin got to do wi't? Not a chip. Poyser's wife may turn her nose up an' forget bygones, but this Dinah Morris, they tell me, 's as poor as iver she was works at a mill, an's much ado to keep hersen.
She has nobody in the world that's near her, lives alone in a little shanty, an' is over seventy, and yet she thanks the Lord three times a day for his many blessin's an's sure he'd never let her come to want. She's lived that way fer goin' on thirty year, an' no one ever heard her complain.
"He wasn't always like that. Sure, when I first know'd Bunco he was scarlet pure scarlet, only he took a fancy one day, when he was in a wild mood, to run his canoe over the falls of Niagara for a wager, an', faix, when he came up out o' the wather after it he was turned brown, an's bin that same ever since." "Gammon," exclaimed Maryann.
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