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Updated: May 1, 2025
"Oh, you dratted fool, how should I know!" cried Deborah, fiercely; "there may be one and there may be twenty. Go and catch them you're paid for it. Send to number twenty Park Street, Bloomsbury, for Bart." "Who is Bart?" "Go and fetch him," cried Deborah, furious at this delay; "number twenty Park Street, Bloomsbury. Oh, what a night this is!
"And I didn't get them oats, after all." "I'll 'tend to all that, Aunt Prue," said Tunis. "If it hadn't been for that dratted Queen of Sheby" Cap'n Ira glared malevolently at the rather surprised-looking countenance of the gray mare in her box "you wouldn't have got into that jam."
Sewell for his courtesies to me, and to express my regret at leaving him and Mr. Jaffrey. "I have become very much attached to Mr. Jaffrey," I said; "he is a most interesting person; but that hypothetical boy of his, that son of Miss Mehetabel's" "Yes, I know!" interrupted Mr. Sewell, testily. "Fell off a step-ladder and broke his dratted neck. Eleven year old, was n't he?
"'Ee dratted old skunk! That white har o' yourn ain't a-gwine to stay thur much longer ev you don't bring her out. Whur is she? the young queen?" "Al sur," and the Indian points to the south. "Oh! mon Dieu! mon Dieu!" cries Seguin, in his native tongue, and with an accentuation that expresses his complete wretchedness. "Don't believe him, cap!
"I am commonly called 'Master Piers' in this neighbourhood. They won't let me grow up. Rather a shame, what? I'm nearly twenty-five, and the head-keeper still refers to me in private as 'that dratted boy." She laughed for the first time. Possibly he had angled for that laugh. "Yes, it is a shame!" she agreed. "But then Sir Beverley is rather old, isn't he?
That dratted horse fell on me." She refused to say any more and lay down groaning. But I was too worried to sleep again. In the morning Percy was gone from the tree. Mr. Willoughby had more rabbit and prepared to leave the forest. He offered Tish a dollar for the two meals and a bed, and Tish, who was moving about stiffly, said that she and her people took no money for their hospitality.
"I've already written out the order for new bill-heads and new cards! and I've sent round the order about Monday," he went on. "But if this dratted Bank Holiday goes on, there won't be much work done in Witanbury on Monday! Hush! Here she comes." There had come a ring at the back door. Polly went out, and a moment later brought back the old German woman.
"And who's Us, when you're at home?" asked Martha scornfully. "I tell you it's us, only we're beautiful as the day," said Cyril. "I'm Cyril, and these are the others, and we're jolly hungry. Let us in, and don't be a silly idiot." Martha merely dratted Cyril's impudence and tried to shut the door in his face.
"Ship my rullocks!" cried father, jumping up from his seat and making for the scullery door, with mother and Jenny after him. "It's that dratted old tom-cat of Bill Squeers come prowling arter the birds again, I knows. I've sworn I'll pison him some day; and, by the Lord, too, I will, if he's bin and gone and meddled with `Ally Sloper'!"
Yo' slip back some night with the boys an' git yo'r own things, if y'r so dratted stuck on 'em. Come along now." She took hold of his wrist with a grip like iron. Shorty had no idea that a woman could have such strength. "I want to go back and git my partner," said Shorty. "Me and him 've bin together all the time we've bin in the army. He'll go along with me, I'm sure.
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