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Updated: May 20, 2025
Ban't no dearth o' chets or childern as I've heard on. They comes unaxed, an' unwanted tu. You might a heard tell o' some sich p'raps?" She blushed and shook with passion at this sudden new aspect of affairs. Here was a standpoint from which nobody had viewed her before. Worse far worse than her father's rage or Uncle Chirgwin's tears was this. Amos Bartlett represented the world's attitude.
The "baby," be it observed, was about six years old at the time when this speech was made, and his protege the "chet" was a great-grandmother, with innumerable chets of her own.
Bartlett answered: "The unhappy creature was fine an' emperent to me 'bout a matter o' drownin' chets in the spring. Yet here she'm drowned herself sure 'nough. Well, well, God's will be done." "Her eyes do make me wimbly-wambly in the stomach," declared the second laborer; "when you've done talkin', Gaffer Polglaze, us'll go up-long, an' the sooner the better." "Butivul eyes, tu, they was wance.
Bartlett was present and explained. "Them chets had to gaw, missy. 'Tis a auld word an' it ban't wise to take no count of sayings like that. 'May chets bad luck begets. You've heard tell o' that? Never let live no kittens born in May. They theer dead chets comed May Day." "You'm a cruel devil!" she said hotly; "how'd you like for your two lil children to be thrawed in the water, May or no May?
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