asittin

Updated: May 15, 2025

Wylie went out again, and was absent an hour; on his return he sat by the fire and smoked sullenly. After a while he snatched the pipe from his mouth, and looked impatiently at the old woman. "Oh! for God's sake, git to bed," he snapped, "and don't be asittin' there like a blarsted funeral! You're enough to give a man the dismals." Mrs. Wylie gathered up her sewing and retired.

Henry Lawson - Over the Sliprails