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Do 'e think us caan't see what it all means an' the wisht cloud that's awver all our heads, lookin' darker by contrast wi' the happiness of the land, owing to the Jubilee of a gert Queen? Coourse we knaw. But't is poor wisdom to talk 'bout the blackness of a cloud to them as be tryin' to find its silver lining. If you caan't lighten trouble, best to hold your peace."
"I be come to talk to Miller, not you." "Nay, nay, Billy can stay and see I'm not tu hard 'pon 'e," declared Mr. Lyddon. "He axed a proper question. What's put by to goody in the savings' bank, Will?" "Well five pounds; and 't will be rose to ten by Christmas, I assure 'e." "Fi' puns! an' how far 's that gwaine?" "So far as us can make it, in coourse."
After what Will done against you, you needn't be so squeamish as to make his enemies yourn." "My business is with the bees as you say, mother," he answered slowly, repeating her words. "Coourse 'tis! Who knaws a half of what you knaw 'bout 'em? That's my awn braave Clem! Why, there might be a mort o' gude money for a man like you at the Red House!" "I'll go. My business is with the bees.
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