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Updated: May 27, 2025
Fust time I spoke to her I thought I should ha' fallen down. Steady with that water. Dost want for skin me alive? Yes, I thought I should ha' fallen down. They call'n it love. You can call it what ye'n a mind for call it. I nearly fell down." "How did you meet her, uncle?" Herbert interposed, aware that his uncle had not been accustomed to move in theatrical circles. "How did I meet her?
"I haven't got no other one as I ever heerd on. My uncle's Jim Whiteside, an' soom folks call'n me Sally Whiteside, an' then he gets mad an' says 'tisn't none o' my name. An' soom folks call'n me 'Cockle Sally. Aye, that's what they call'n me mostly." Dickinson looked at her disapprovingly.
Roger carelessly accosted him, and asked, as an idle wanderer, the name of the family he had just seen cross over from the mansion. 'Od zounds! if ye modden be a stranger here in very truth, goodman. That wer Sir John and his dame, and his children Elizabeth, Mary, and John. 'I be from foreign parts. Sir John what d'ye call'n?
Not that I should call'n maister by rights, for his father growed up side by side with me, as if one mother had twinned us and been our nourishing." "I s'pose your memory can reach a long way back into history, Mr. Creedle?" "Oh yes. Ancient days, when there was battles and famines and hang-fairs and other pomps, seem to me as yesterday.
But I can't promise. This is a' old cask, and the wood's rotted away about the tap-hole. The husbird of a feller Sam Lawson that ever I should call'n such, now he's dead and gone, poor heart! took me in completely upon the feat of buying this cask. 'Reub, says he 'a always used to call me plain Reub, poor old heart!
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