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Updated: May 16, 2025
He jumped on to the veranda, clicked his teeth in an admiring ejaculation as he gazed at Lady Bridget. 'My word! BUJERI feller White Mary you! ... new feller Mithsis belonging to Boss. My word! Then as McKeith drew up his horses in front of the hotel, Wombo and Moongarr Bill sprang to the heads of wheelers and leaders.
Me want 'em catch Lathy-chap before pollis-man come. That feller pollis-man take Wombo long-a gaol. Mithsis' the gin implored. 'BUJERI you! Mithis tell pollis-man Wombo plenty good blackfellow. No take Wombo long-a gaol. 'What has Wombo been doing? asked Lady Bridget. 'Did he steal the gun?
What time she could spare from her trousseau she spent in reading books about them, which some of her official friends got her from the Parliamentary Library, and had already learned to think of herself as a 'bujeri* White Mary, whose mission it might be to compose the racial feud between blackman and white. To Colin, knowing now the tragedy of his youth, she did not speak much on this subject.
There was something of savage dignity in the defiant way in which he faced his former master. 'What for you been take-it stockwhip long-a me? BA'AL me bad black boy long-a you, Boss. What for me no have 'em gin belonging to me? Massa catch 'im bujeri White Mary like it gin belonging to him. What for no all same black fellow?
And Moongarr Bill with the horses' reins over his arm, and the two black-boys agape, beady eyes twinkling, white teeth glistening, emitting their queer guttural clicks of approbation, and an occasional 'My word! Bujeri you, Lathy-chap, the nearest they could get to Moongarr Bill's accepted form of address.
'BUJERI* YOU, white Mary! pleaded Oola in the native formula. 'You gib it medsin.... You gib it one old fellow skirt.... BA'AL, Oola got 'im clothes... BA'AL got 'im ration... plenty sick this feller.... And she beat her breast with the arm that was unhurt. 'Of course, I'll give you medicine and food, and I'll look out something for you to put on.
Bridget took the watch from her hand, detached the key from the chain, and slipped watch and chain into the pocket of her coat, while Oola, clutching Lady Bridget's knees, pleaded chokily: 'Mithsis you gib me key no make im noise. No tell pollis-man me let out Wombo. My word! plenty quick he YAN long-a scrub. BA-AL pollis-man catch Wombo. Mithsis BUJERI White Mary! You gib it key to Oola.
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