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Updated: May 11, 2025
Tak place is, Take place, or sit down. If you talk of bathing, they will advise you to dook oonder; and should a mother present her baby to you she will call it her smook barn, her pretty bairn or child, smook being the Norse word for pretty.
I thank you kindly, brother.’ Starting up, she flung the bulrush aside which she had hitherto held in her hand, and, seizing the kettle, she looked at it for a moment, and then began a kind of dance, flourishing the kettle over her head the while, and singing— ‘The Rommany chi And the Rommany chal Shall jaw tasaulor To drab the bawlor, And dook the gry Of the farming rye.
'E'll be a dook, if a kid pegs out as is expected to, and anyhow 'e'll be a markis, and 'e means the straight thing no errer. It ain't fair for me to stand in 'er way." "Well," I says, "you know your own business, but it seems to me she wouldn't have much way to stand in if it hadn't been for you." "Oh, that's all right," he says.
He knows which side of his bread's got quince preserves onto it. I used to run second mate on the Dook of Orleans, and I know his kind. He'll soar around like a turkey-buzzard fer a while. Presently he'll 'light. He's rusticatin' tell some scrape blows over. An' he'll make somethin' outen it. Business afore pleasure is his motto.
‘Here’s a pretty affair, bebee,’ screamed the girl. ‘He’ll get up, yet,’ said Mrs. Herne, from beneath the canvas. ‘Get up!—get up yourself; where are you? where is your—Here, there, bebee, here’s the door; there, make haste, they are coming.’ ‘He’ll get up yet,’ said Mrs. Herne, recovering her breath; ‘the dook tells me so.’
I demanded. And then Mr. Petulengro told me the name of the hill. "We shall stay on t'other side of the hill a fortnight," he continued; "and as you are fond of lil writing, you may employ yourself profitably whilst there. You can write the lil of him whose dook gallops down that hill every night, even as the living man was wont to do long ago." "Who was he?" I demanded.
"I'm feeling very, very, very well, my Lord Dook, Mr. V.V. On'y I decided I'd spend to-day lazyin' at my writin'-desk, readin' over my billy-doox from peers of the rellum, 'stead of working my hands and legs off in that nasty, nasty, NASTY " "Stop that cuckoo-clock nonsense!" called Mr. V.V., starting to walk towards her. "What are you doing here, I say?" "I'm helping mommer soak colliflower, Mr.
Why, darn my skin, I knew something was amiss! "With what?" "Why, with them soldiers. You saw them pass, doctor eh? They'd forgot their stocks. Not one on 'em had his stock on." He croaked and chuckled for a long time over his discovery. "It wouldn't ha' done for the Dook!" he muttered. "No, by Jimini! the Dook would ha' had a word there." The doctor smiled.
Petulengro, coming after me; "the dook tells me that in less than three months he will be sold for twice seventy." "I will have nothing to do with him," said I; "besides, Jasper, I don't like his tail. Did you observe what a mean scrubby tail he has?" "What a fool you are, brother," said Mr. Petulengro; "that very tail of his shows his breeding.
"Don't say so, child; he's sick, 'tis true, but don't laugh at dukkerin, only folks do that that know no better. I, for one, will never laugh at the dukkerin dook. Sick again; I wish he was gone." "He'll soon be gone, bebee; let's leave him. He's as good as gone; look there, he's dead." "No, he's not, he'll get up I feel it; can't we hasten him?"
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