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Updated: May 24, 2025
And Cray was really a very pretty village, just as Pierson had said, and we had no lessons and lots of fresh eggs and new milk. So altogether it was very nice.
A second defeat at the passage of the Cray drove the British forces in terror upon London; but the ground was soon won back again, and it was not till 465 that a series of petty conflicts which had gone on along the shores of Thanet made way for a decisive struggle at Wippedsfleet.
"Miss Alison Cray being about to give up school, has pleasure in stating that she has disposed of the good-will of her establishment to Miss Jessy Langlands and Miss S. Oram, who will enter upon their scholastic duties on January 9th, at Hoods Cottage, where she most cordially," and so on.
"Cray," said John Mortimer, observing the boy's wan appearance, "how could you think of sitting up so late?" "Why, the thupper wath on purpoth for him," exclaimed Johnnie. "We gave it in hith honour, ath a mark of thympathy." "Because he was burnt out," said Gladys. "Papa, did you know? his tutor's house was burnt down, and the boys had to escape in the night."
Rose, and sat trying to think of a means of enlightening his friend without undue loss of modesty. "She ain't a bit like her poor mother," mused Mr. Cray. "No, she don't get her looks from her," assented the other. "It's one o' them things you can't account for," said Mr. Cray, who was very tired of the subject; "it's just like seeing a beautiful flower blooming on an old cabbage-stump."
Your father had noticed he was like Mr. Cray, except in the beard, and so he had his beard clippit the same, and he got hand o' some weel-kent claethes o' the gauger's that had been presented to a poor body, and he learned up a' the gauger's tricks of speech and walking, especially a droll w'y he had o' taking snuff and syne flinging back his head.
He was coming to stay a fortnight with us, but you can have him with pleasure me and him don't get on over and above well." "Perhaps he wouldn't do it," objected the farmer. "He'd do it like a shot," said Mr. Cray, positively. "It would be fun for us and it 'ud be a lesson for her.
"And his brother was so horribly vexed when he found that he hardly got on at school at all." "That's enough to vex any man. Cray should spend less time in writing these verses of his." "Yes, he wrote us word that his brother said so, and was extremely cross and unpleasant, when he replied that this was genius, and must not be repressed."
"Four," Valentine went on, "'The City of the Skunk, an Ode. Now, Cray, it is of no use your saying you did not write this, for you sent me a copy, and told me that was the poetical name for Chicago." "Well," said Crayshaw, "I tried that subject because Mr.
"And where's Cray?" exclaimed John, suddenly observing the absence of his young guest. "He's down in the kitchen, dishing up the pudding," said Barbara blushing, and she darted out of the room, and presently returned, other footsteps following hers. "Cray," exclaimed John, as the boy seemed inclined to linger outside, "don't stand there in the draught.
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