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This is not the first poisoning affair she has been engaged in." "You allude to drabbing bawlor." "Bah!" said Mr. Petulengro; "there's no harm in that. No, no! she has cast drows in her time for other guess things than bawlor; both Gorgios and Romans have tasted of them, and died. Did you never hear of the poisoned plum pudding?" "Never." "Then I will tell you about it.
'The Rommany chi And the Rommany chal Shall jaw tasaulor To drab the bawlor, And dook the gry Of the farming rye. A very pretty song, thought I, falling again hard to work upon my kettle; a very pretty song, which bodes the farmers much good. Let them look to their cattle. 'All alone here, brother? said a voice close by me, in sharp but not disagreeable tones.
I thank you kindly, brother.’ Starting up, she flung the bulrush aside which she had hitherto held in her hand, and, seizing the kettle, she looked at it for a moment, and then began a kind of dance, flourishing the kettle over her head the while, and singing— ‘The Rommany chi And the Rommany chal Shall jaw tasaulor To drab the bawlor, And dook the gry Of the farming rye.
‘The Rommany chi And the Rommany chal Shall jaw tasaulor To drab the bawlor, And dook the gry Of the farming rye.’ A very pretty song, thought I, falling again hard to work upon my kettle; a very pretty song, which bodes the farmers much good. Let them look to their cattle. ‘All alone here, brother?’ said a voice close by me, in sharp but not disagreeable tones.
This is not the first poisoning affair she has been engaged in. 'You allude to drabbing bawlor. 'Bah! said Mr. Petulengro; 'there's no harm in that. No, no! she has cast drows in her time for other guess things than bawlor; both Gorgios and Romans have tasted of them, and died. Did you never hear of the poisoned plum pudding? 'Never. 'Then I will tell you about it.
I thank you kindly, brother." Starting up, she flung the bulrush aside which she had hitherto held in her hand, and seizing the kettle, she looked at it for a moment, and then began a kind of dance, flourishing the kettle over her head the while, and singing The Rommany chi And the Rommany chal, Shall jaw tasaulor To drab the bawlor, And dook the gry Of the farming rye.
This is not the first poisoning affair she has been engaged in.’ ‘You allude to drabbing bawlor.’ ‘Bah!’ said Mr. Petulengro; ‘there’s no harm in that. No, no! she has cast drows in her time for other guess things than bawlor; both Gorgios and Romans have tasted of them, and died. Did you never hear of the poisoned plum pudding?’ ‘Never.’ ‘Then I will tell you about it.
I thank you kindly, brother. Starting up, she flung the bulrush aside which she had hitherto held in her hand, and, seizing the kettle, she looked at it for a moment, and then began a kind of dance, flourishing the kettle over her head the while, and singing 'The Rommany chi And the Rommany chal Shall jaw tasaulor To drab the bawlor, And dook the gry Of the farming rye.
But soon some exciting incidents happened. My quarters were one morning suddenly invaded by a young Romany girl, who advanced towards me, after closely scanning me, singing a gipsy song: The Romany chi And the Romany chal Shall jaw tasaulor To drab the bawlor, And dook the gry Of the farming rye.
The Rommany chi And the Rommany chal, Shall jaw tasaulor To drab the bawlor, And dook the gry Of the farming rye. A very pretty song, thought I, falling again hard to work upon my kettle; a very pretty song, which bodes the farmers much good. Let them look to their cattle. "All alone here, brother?" said a voice close by me, in sharp but not disagreeable tones.
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