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Becquerel's views have been amply confirmed by recent extensive experiments on the bleak, stony, and desolate plain of the Cran in the Department of the Bouches-du-Rhone, which had remained a naked waste from the earliest ages of history.

"And, Custy," said he, "there's plenty wind getting up, your fish will be sair hashed; put them off your hands, I rede ye." Christie. "Ay, lad! Flucker, hide, an' when I play my hand sae, ye'll run in an cry, 'Cirsty, the Irishman will gie ye twenty-two schellin the cran." Flucker. "Ye ken mair than's in the catecheesm, for as releegious as ye are." The Leith merchant was Mr.

They recall the time when they went fishing in the North Sea and had to be content to sell their catch at a shilling and sixpence a cran a cran being equal to four gurries, or about a thousand herrings. Who is there now who would sell even a hundred herrings for one and sixpence? Who is there who would sell a hundred herrings for ten and sixpence?

"'Not look at a woman? sais Cran, 'why, what sort of a guess world would this be without petticoats? what a superfine superior tarnation fool he must be, to jine such a tee-total society as that. Mint julip I could give up, I do suppose, though I had a plaguy sight sooner not do it, that's a fact: but as for womankind, why the angeliferous little torments, there is no livin' without them.

"They are keen to hae them," said Flucker; and hastily retired, as if to treat further with the small merchants. On this, Mr. Miller, pretending to make for Leith, said, carelessly, "Twenty-three shillings, or they are not for me." "Tak the cutter's freight at a hundre' cran, an' I'm no caring," said Christie. "They are mine!" said Mr. Miller, very sharply. "How much shall I give you the day?"

"'Fenchence is mine I will repay. Ta Lord loves fenchence. It's a fine thing, fenchence. To make ta wicked know tat tey'll pe peing put men! Yes; ta Lord will slay ta wicked. Ta Lord will gif ta honest man fenchence upon his enemies. It wass a cran' sairmon!" "Don't you think vengeance a very dreadful thing, Mr MacPhail?" said the schoolmaster.

"Auchty pund, sir, if you please the lave when you like; I ken ye, Mr. Miller." While counting her the notes, the purchaser said slyly to her: "There's more than a hundred cran in the cutter, my woman." "A little, sir," replied the vender; "but, ere I could count them till ye by baskets, they would lose seven or eight cran in book,* your gain, my loss." *Bulk.

What do you think, stranger? "'Sartainly, said Squatter; 'but seein' that the man had a vow, why it warn't his fault, for he couldn't do nothin' else. Where he did wrong, was to look back; if he hadn't a looked back, he wouldn't have sinned. "'Well, well, sais Cran, 'if that's the case, it is a hoss of another colour, that. I won't look back nother, then. Let him he.

1st Mer. "You will be asking fifteen shillin' the cran." Christie. "And ten to that." 1st Mer. "Good-morning." 2d Mer. "Would he not go over fifteen shillings? Oh, the thief o' the world! I'll give sixteen." 3d Mer. "But I'll give eighteen." 2d Mer. "More fool you! Take him up, my girl." Christie. "Twenty-five is my price the day." 3d Mer.

He is the last straw. The boat is pulled off. The Earnest steams slowly on, for three o'clock is close at hand and that is the hour fixed for Captain Boyton's start from the Cran aux Anguilles, El Chine, about two hundred yards to the east of the Grisnez light. "Three A.M. A rocket rushes up from the boat sent ashore. It is the signal of Captain Boyton's departure.