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Updated: June 6, 2025
"I ain't dirtyin' my glasses that-a-way." "There you are," jeered Quinnion, with a sullen sort of defiance. "You swat me over the head while I ain't lookin' an' then bring me in here where they're all your friends. If I drop you I get all mussed up with their bullets. No, thanks." "For the last time," said Lee, and his low voice was ominous, "I tell you what to do.
The tone in which the word was voiced gave it all the effect of having been shouted from the housetops. A dark ruffled head and two frightened eyes appeared above the dimity spread. "What are you layin' on your good bed in the daytime for, messin' up the feathers, and dirtyin' the pillers with your dusty boots?" Rebecca rose guiltily. There seemed no excuse to make.
"Oh, I I thought I wouldn't ever have to ride again wh-when I was seven," she faltered, putting one white-gloved hand to her eyes. "Stop that!" commanded Jane, again, "Dirtyin' your gloves, you wasteful little thing!" Now the big sobs came. Down went the yellow head. "Oh! Oh! Oh!" said Thomas. "Little ladies never cry."
Das not difficult to do, but I'll neber forgib you if you go slobberin' like dat, an' dirtyin' my face wid your black cheeks. Dar now, I's got to polish you up again!" This "polishing up," it may be remarked, was a duty which Sally was called on to perform rather frequently, in consequence of Hester's inveterate tendency to think of her father and shed tears!
The tone in which the word was voiced gave it all the effect of having been shouted from the housetops. A dark ruffled head and two frightened eyes appeared above the dimity spread. "What are you layin' on your good bed in the daytime for, messin' up the feathers, and dirtyin' the comforter with your dusty boots?" Rebecca rose guiltily. There seemed no excuse to make.
'Come on, then! Macgregor spat lightly On his palms. 'I've nae time to waste. Willie cast his jacket on the ground. 'I'll wrastle ye, he said, with a gleam of hope. 'Thenk ye; but I'm no for dirtyin' ma guid claes. Come on! To Willie's credit, let it be recorded, he did come on, and so promptly that Macgregor, scarcely prepared, had to take a light tap on the chin.
In spite of her unconscious rebuff to his own vanity, Hemmingway felt a sense of relief and less constraint in his relations to this decidedly provincial hostess. "Can I help you in any way?" he asked eagerly. "Well, ye MIGHT bring me an armful o' wood from the pile under the alders, ef ye ain't afraid o' dirtyin' your coat," she said tentatively. Mr.
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