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"Ay but I reckon you'll do't, all the same, for t'other half that's to come when you've got en safe an' sound. Dirty hands make clean money." "Well, well; ye've been dirtily sarved. I'll see 'ee this arternoon at the 'Four Lords. We've orders to sail at five, sharp; so there's no time to waste." "Then I won't detain 'ee. Clk, Jessamy!"
"Stand on this," said the judge, coming down and offering his square inch of pocket-handkerchief, which was accordingly laid down by the post. "That makes it thoft; won't hurt now. Do't over."
Another long silence. "Could you find un, dee yow think, noo, into Lunnon? Suppose, now, there was a mon 'ud gie may be five pund ten pund twenty pund, by * twenty pund down, for to ha' him brocht home safe and soun' Could yow do't, bor'? I zay, could yow do't?" "I could do it as well without the money as with, if I could do it at all. But have you no guess as to where he is?"
"It'll be a warnin' to ye, Sam'l, no to be in sic a hurry i' the futur," said Sanders. Sam'l groaned. "Ye'll be gaein up to the manse to arrange wi' the minister the morn's mornin'," continued Sanders in a subdued voice. Sam'l looked wistfully at his friend. "I canna do't, Sanders," he said, "I canna do't." "Ye maun," said Sanders. "It's aisy to speak," retorted Sam'l, bitterly.
"Ou, ye would notice 'at she sat devourin' him wi' her een, she was so lifted up at hae'n 'im again. Weel, she says noo 'at she saw 'im twa or three times put his hand in his pouch as if he was findin' to mak sure 'at something was safe. So when he fell asleep again this mornin' she got haud o' his jacket to see if there was onything in't. I advised her no to do't, but she couldna help herself.
Jess had packed it herself. Leeby was wiser. "Let her do't," she whispered, "it'll keep her frae broodin'." Jess tied ends of yarn round the stockings to keep them in a little bundle by themselves. So she did with all the other articles. "No 'at it's ony great affair," she said, for on the last night they were all thirsting to do something for Jamie that would be a great affair to him.
O he's a limb, that has but a disease; Mortal to cut it off; to cure it, easy. What has he done to Rome, that's worthy death? Killing our enemies? And what is left, to lose it by his country, Were to us all, that do't and suffer it, A brand to the end o' the world. There's a piece thrust in here. This is the one of whom he says in another scene, 'I cannot speak him home. Bru.
An' I licked the bwoy on Pratt's bwoat a fortnight agone. A lot o' men seed me do't. I hopes I'll hit so hard as faither hisself wan day, when I'm grawed. Good-by, sister Joan. I'll see 'e agin when I can, an' bring up a feesh maybe. Doan't say nothin' 'bout me to them at the farm, else it may get back."
"An' wae's me that he's sae far awa', and canna do't himsel. My bonnie bairn! Ye're come into the warld without a father's blessing."
"A two-pounder!" gasped Donald, unable to restrain his excitable spirit, as he half rose. Junkie had him by the throat in a moment, and crammed his ragged head down among the heather. "Tonal'!" he whispered remonstratively. "I forgot," whispered Donald, when the strong little hands relaxed. "I'll not do't again."
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