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Updated: June 12, 2025
The laird was like to burst wi' rage at being fickled by sic a hag-ma-hush carle, and he took to the stane in a fury, and lifted it till his knee; but the weight o 't amaist ground his banes to smash. He held the stane till his een-strings crackit, when he was as blin' as a moudiwort.
One of these was Toby Crackit, another Mr. Chitling, and the third a robber of fifty years, whose nose had been almost beaten in, in some old scuffle, and whose face bore a frightful scar which might probably be traced to the same occasion. This man was a returned transport, and his name was Kags. 'I wish, said Toby turning to Mr.
After dinner Fred Crackit, in a speech that was designed to be humorous, presented a massive silver plated water-pitcher with "Mother Atterson" engraved upon it. And really, the old lady broke down at that. "Good Land o' Goshen!" she exclaimed. "Why, you boys do think something of the old woman, after all, don't ye?
He seemed to be still walking between Sikes and Crackit, who were angrily disputing for the very words they said, sounded in his ears; and when he caught his own attention, as it were, by making some violent effort to save himself from falling, he found that he was talking to them.
'Good-night, Nancy, said the Jew, muffling himself up as before. 'Good-night. Their eyes met, and the Jew scrutinised her, narrowly. There was no flinching about the girl. She was as true and earnest in the matter as Toby Crackit himself could be. The Jew again bade her good-night, and, bestowing a sly kick upon the prostrate form of Mr. Sikes while her back was turned, groped downstairs.
The Jew looked blank at this information. After ruminating for some minutes with his chin sunk on his breast, he raised his head and said, with a deep sigh, that if flash Toby Crackit reported aright, he feared the game was up. 'And yet, said the old man, dropping his hands on his knees, 'it's a sad thing, my dear, to lose so much when we had set our hearts upon it. 'So it is, said Mr. Sikes.
There was little to be made out, in the mist and darkness; but the loud shouting of men vibrated through the air, and the barking of the neighbouring dogs, roused by the sound of the alarm bell, resounded in every direction. 'Stop, you white-livered hound! cried the robber, shouting after Toby Crackit, who, making the best use of his long legs, was already ahead. 'Stop!
The boy is bleeding." Then came the loud ringing of a bell, and the shouts of men, and the sensation of being carried over uneven ground at a rapid pace. And then the noises grew confused in the distance, and Oliver saw and heard no more. Sikes, finding the chase too hot, was compelled to leave Oliver in a ditch and make his escape with his friend Crackit. It was morning when Oliver awoke.
I guess he was only foolin'," decided Sister, with a sigh. "Folks like to fool me like Mr. Crackit eh?" But Mrs. Atterson told Hiram, when he asked about Sister's meagre little story, that the institution had promised to let her know if the lawyer ever returned to make further inquiries about the orphan.
"Well, Sister's the limit!" smiled Hiram, as he turned into the street, with its rows of ugly brick houses on either hand. "I believe Fred Crackit has got it right. Mrs. Atterson keeps Sister instead of a cat so there'll be something to kick." The half-grown girl narrow-chested, round shouldered, and sallow had been taken by Mrs. Atterson from some charity institution.
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