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Updated: May 31, 2025
I won't never no more again, sir not if Mattie don't drive me to it. Con. Come back for me in a little while. Col. G. Yes, miss. Come, Bill. Exit. Bill. All right, sir. I'm a follerin', as the cat said to the pigeon. Exit. Sus. I'll just go and get you a cup o' tea. Mrs. Jones's kettle's sure to be a bilin'. That's what you would like. Exit.
Thus they toiled and moiled, with their heads and shoulders in smoke and fire, and their feet in water. Gradually the tide rose. "Pump away, Ruby! Keep the pot bilin', my boy," said the smith. "The wind blowin', you mean. I say, Dove, do the other men like the work here?" "Like it, ay, they like it well.
They're so fraid of settin' back a chair, if it is their place to cook, and so afraid of bilin' a egg if it is their place to slick up the house. Why, it wuz a lesson in morals to see that big grand river crumplin' down to do housework for a spell. Frontenac Island used to be called Round Island, I guess because it wuz kinder square in shape.
It wud be naething but cat and dog atween's frae mornin to nicht! 'Ae body canna be cat and dog baith! And the dog's as ill's the cat whiles waur! 'Ony dog wud yowl gien ye threw a kettle o' bilin watter ower him! 'Did she that til ye? 'She mintit at it. I ran frae her. She bed the toddy-kettle in her ban', and she splasht it in her ain face tryin to fling't at me. 'Maybe she didna ken ye!
"Marse Jeff done tol' me Miss Ann wa'n't never ter want an' now, bless Bob, he's gonter come an' live with us-alls an' look arfter the whole bilin'. I sho' air glad he's gonter come here instead er us havin' ter pick up an' go wharever he is.
"Her ladyship wad gi'e hersel' sma' concern gien the haill bilin' o' ye war whaur ye cam frae," returned the factor. "An' for the toon here, the fowk kens the guid o' a quaiet caus'ay ower weel to lament the loss o' ye." "The deil's i' the man!" cried the Partaness in high scorn.
She sez she hez ter do it ter keep the pot bilin' 'pears ter me Penel's pots take a sight uv bilin'." "But she has left a nice pile of wood close beside you, Mrs. Riggs." "La, yes," grumbled the old lady, "but it's dretful thoughtless in her ter stay away so long, when she knows the stoopin' cums so hard on my rheumatiz. An' it's terrible lonesome. I get that narvous some days I'm all of a shake.
"Oh, she won't let me in!" said Gerty "and I wouldn't go if she would." "Who won't let you in? your mother?" "No! Nan Grant?" "Who's Nan Grant?" "She's a horrid, wicked woman, that drowned my kitten in bilin' water." "But where's your mother?" "I ha'n't got none." "Who do you belong to, you poor little thing?" "Nobody; and I've no business anywhere!"
While Uncle Eb was giving his views on food, he was hurriedly "bilin'" coffee, frying unlimited flapjacks, and breaking up some crystal cakes of maple sugar, which he melted into a sirup, and poured over them. "De bell done chime Fer de breakfast time!" he shouted gleefully when all was accomplished. "Heah, yonkers!
"If we'd had a ship that wasna rotten to the hairt, like her owners, we'd ha pu'ed through." "Right you are, old Sandy! But we're all goin' together, captain and owners and the whole bilin'," yelled Miggs recklessly. The mate looked at him half in surprise and half in contempt. "You've been at the bottle," he said.
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