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Updated: June 4, 2025
"Man alive! don't you see it? The one furthest aft, with a black hole in it big enough a'most to stuff my George into." Thursday applied the pincers gently. Adams, unable to use clear speech in the circumstances, said chokingly, "'At's 'e un 'ool away!" which, interpreted, is, "That's the one pull away." Toc pulled, Adams roared, the children quaked, and the pincers slipped.
'But there's a bit wordy 'at they read at the cathedral kirk the last Sunday 'at's stucken to me as gin there was something by ordinar' in 't. 'What's that? asked Robert, pretending to go on with his calculations all the time. 'Ow, nae muckle; only this: "Judge not, that ye be not judged."
He leave thy praise to those shall do thee right, Good will, not skill, did cause me bring my mite. HIS EPITAPH. Here lyes the Pearle of France, Parnassus glory; The World rejoyc'd at's birth, at's death, was sorry, Art and Nature joyn'd, by heavens high decree Naw shew'd what once they ought, Humanity!
And both mistress and maid laughed the moment they parted company. 'Wha's this 'at's come the nicht, Miss Naper, 'at they're sae ta'en wi'? asked Robert. 'Atweel, I dinna ken yet. It's a mercy the baron's no at hame. I wad hae to lock her up wi' the forks and spunes. 'What for that? asked Robert. But Miss Napier vouchsafed no further explanation.
"Don't lemme see you first," advised Racey. "Never mind getting up. Just sit nice and quiet like a good boy, and keep the li'l hands spread out all so pretty with the thumbs locked over yore head. 'At's the boy. How much for yore dog, feller?" "What you done to my dog?" A woman's voice broke on Racey's ears. But he did not remove his slightly narrowed eyes from the face of the burly youth.
'Well, I says, 'that's just what it is wi' Bony. I'll not deny but he may be a bit cliver he's no Frenchman born, as I understand but what's he got at's back but mounseers?" Mr.
Yes, suh, he's prepaihed to show all 'em otheh hawsses which way 'is track runs!" "Went good, did he, Mose?" "Good! He like to pull my ahms off, 'at's how good he went! Yes, suh, he was jus' buck-jumpin' all 'e way down 'at stretch. 'Ey kin all be in front of him tuhnin' fo' to-morreh, an' he'll go by 'em so fas' 'ey won't know which way he went!" Old Man Curry nodded.
Sometimes a faint explanation gurgled out with the tears: "Poor Eve! her dear little face was working so not to cry. Oh! oh! I should not have minded so much if she had cried right out." Then, again, it was "Poor Mrs. Wilson! I was only a week with her, for all her love. I have made a c at's p paw of her oh!" Then, again, "Uncle Bazalgette has never noticed us; he thinks me a h h ypocrite."
I'm thinkin at sic a time they'll be efter helpin some puir body 'at the snaw's like to be ower muckle for. Eh me! gien I cud but get rid o' my feet, and win up to see! 'What for yer feet, Steenie? What ails ye aye at yer feet? Feet's gey usefu' kin o' thing's to craturs, whether gien them in fours or twas! 'Ay, but mine's sic a weicht! It's them 'at's aye haudin me doon!
He filled up, and passed on the pouch to his son, who was lying on the thwarts forward, and he also filled up and passed it back with a nod. "What's this?" asked Graeme. "Jetto. Mr. Lee Sir Austin 'e is now brother o' Passon Lee o' the Port," with a backward jerk of the head, "'e rents it." "Live there?" "Naw rabbits." "And the bigger island yonder?" "'At's Harm.
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