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Updated: May 19, 2025
"Let thy teeth keep better guard over thy red rag, Zerubbabel," rebuked Joe Bagby, warningly. "We want no rattlepates to tell us or others what 's needed or doing." "This Meredith 's a man of property, eh?" asked Evatt. "He 's been so since he married Patty Byllynge," replied the publican. "Afore then he war n't nothin' but a poor young lawyer over tew Trenton." "And who was Patty Byllynge?"
But in the doorway her exasperation got the better of her dignity, and she faced about and said: "You evidently don't know that my great-grandfather was Edward Byllynge." The man laughed contemptuously. "Why, you little ninny," he retorted, "my great-grandfather was king of England!"
"You don't know much 'bout West Jersey, or I guess you 'd have heard of her," surmised Bagby. "'T is n't every girl brings her husband a pot of money and nigh thirty thousand acres of land. Folks tell that before the squire got her, the men was about her like " the speaker used a simile too coarse for repetition. "So ho!" said the traveller. "Byllynge, heigh? Now I begin to understand.
"Yes," cried the girl, and then roguishly added, "Why, dadda, I'd as soon, yes, sooner, marry old Belza, who at least is a prince in his own country, than see a Byllynge marry a bond-servant." For some weeks following the pledge of Janice, the life at Greenwood became as healthily monotonous as of yore. Both Mr. and Mrs.
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