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Updated: June 18, 2025
'I tell thee what, lad, I'll come and quarter with thee, and help thee to be master. It 'ud be prime. Only maybe the victuals wouldn't suit me. Last Sunday, afore thy father's buryin', we'd a dinner of duck and green peas, and leg of lamb, and custard pudden, and ale. Martha doesn't get a dinner like that for thee, I reckon. 'No, answered Stephen shortly. 'Maybe it wouldn't suit.
I dismounted and hitched my horse to the fence and followed him into the old churchyard, between weather-stained mossy headstones and graves overgrown with wild roses. Near the far end of these thick-sown acres he stopped. "Here's where the buryin' begun," said my guide. "The first hole in the hill was dug for a Fullerton."
"What is the dress called hereabout, that a man is buried in?" "His buryin' gown. 'Tis only a sperit, a ghost, that walks in a shroud. I'n told that oft enough, I should know." She spoke in a querulous tone, as one having reasonable cause for complaint. "Well," said Valentine, after a pause, "if the shroud was not white, what colour was it?"
He asked her if she had been happy that day because she did not think, and she answered that she had been happy because she had thought. Suddenly someone ran out of the woods in front of the steers. The wagon stopped and Jasper shouted: "Whut's the matter here?" A voice replied: "Wy, sah, atter buryin' de dog I tuck a sho't cut ter head you off.
She'd done well at her sewin', she said, and brought up the baby in tolerable comfort. Then, just as the child was growin' into a woman that could be of help to her mother an' pay her back for her years of workin' an' strugglin', she was took down with consumption. All the little poor Mona had managed to save went in carin' for her sick daughter an' buryin' her when she died.
Well, dat's a sho' sign of a witch rabbit. A witch rabbit he hang round a buryin' ground, but he don't go inside of one naw, suh, not never nur nary. He ain't dare to. He stay outside an' frolic wid de ha'nts w'en dey comes fo'th, but da's all.
Nothin' 'll kill that man. I don't believe buryin' him alive would do it. He's up at the Sailors' Home just now. But I'm not done yet. Here's a portrait o' Lord Nelson, as can look all round the room. See, now, git into that corner. Now, an't he lookin' at ye?" "That he is, an' no mistake," replied Gaff. "Well, git into this other corner; now, an't he lookin' at ye still?" "To be sure he is!"
Howane'er the frinds of this lad had got lave to be buryin' him dacint after he would be hanged; and me poor father, and meself, and plinty of other people were follyin'. Till they come to the ford, and when they seen the manner the wather was runnin' wild, the bearers had a notion to be turnin' back; but they made up their minds, and on they wint.
This long while back I've put ne'er a penny in it, but when we used to be livin' up at Portnafoyle I'd slip in the odd shillin's now and agin, and sometimes I'd think 'twould be handy for buryin' me, and other times I'd think I'd give it to Tom as soon as I'd gathered a thrifle more, on'y some way the thought of partin' wid it 'ud seem to go agin me, and since poor Tom made a match with Martha M'Crum 'tis worse agin me it goes.
Bedad now it was a very lucky thing it so happint there was none of the pólis or red coats about, be raison of their gettin' notice the buryin' was somewhere else oncommon lucky." "It's as quare as the rest of it," said Peter Dooley, who had heard the story before, "that nobody among them had had the wit to put a few brickbats in it, or some good big lumps of heavy stones.
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