Ee says ee knows they're set on grabbin' the birds t'other side the estate, over beyond Mellor way ee's got wind of it an' ee's watchin' night an' day to see they don't do him no bad turn this month, bekase o' the big shoot they allus has in January. An' lor', ee do speak drefful bad o' soom folks," said Mrs. Jellison, with an amused expression. "You know some on 'em, miss, don't yer?"

'To answer this was trenching upon too dangerous ground, so there was a pause. "Is the young lady a Scotchwoman, papa?" "Yes" drily enough. "Has she much of the accent, sir?" "Much of the devil!" answered my father hastily; "do you think I care about a's and aa's, and i's and ee's,? I tell you, Julia, I am serious in the matter.

It was the strangest mirth, as though hollow pain and laughter strove with each other for the one poor indomitable face. "Well, ee could 'a told yer, if e'd ad the mind," she said, nodding, "for ee knows. Ee's been out o' work this twelve an a arf year well, come, I'll bet yer, anyway, as ee 'asn't done a 'and's turn this three year an I don't blime im.

'Ee's at the club, arn't 'ee? said the woman. 'Well they won't be up yet. Jim tolt me as Muster Perris' 'Muster Perris' was the vicar of Clinton Magna ''ad got a strange gen'leman stayin with 'im, and was goin to take him into the club to-night to speak to 'em. 'Ee's a bishop, they ses someun from furrin parts. Bessie threw her good-night and climbed on.

Perhaps he see 'em when ee's going to the wood with a wood cart or he cooms across 'em in the turnips wounded birds, you understan', miss, perhaps the day after the gentry 'as been bangin' at 'em all day. An' ee don't see, not for the life of 'im, why ee shouldn't have 'em. Ther's bin lots an' lots for the rich folks, an' he don't see why ee shouldn't have a few arter they've enjoyed theirselves.

"Let me take 'im to my place," she pleaded: "it's no good talkin' while 'ee's like 'ee is not a bit o' good. John John, dear! you come along wi' me. Shall I get Saunders to come an' speak to yer?" A gleam of sudden hope shot into the old man's face. He had not thought of Saunders; but Saunders had a head; he might unravel this accursed thing.

Darkness was falling rapidly, but she could distinguish his small figure against the snow, and his halting gait. "What is it, Arthur? what is it, lammie?" "O Cousin Mary Anne! Cousin Mary Anne! It's Uncle John, an' 'ee's dead!" She ran like the wind at the words, catching at the child's hand in the dark, and dragging him along with her. "Where is he, Arthur? don't take on, honey!"

And him zat on a style, long zide the tharn bush, and 'a took 'ee's gun, and 'a zays, 'A'll shute vust man are maid as cumes acrust thiccy vield, 'a zays. And us knowed 'un wude du 't tu. And 'un barred the gate, and there t'was." He laughed till the tears ran down his face, brown as gingerbread, and wrinkled as a monkey's. "Mr. Crewys is in a hurry, Jack," said Sarah.

I don't know nothin about his money, an I'll not have yer insultin me in my own place! Get out o' my kitchen, if yo please! Saunders buttoned his coat. 'Sartinly, Mrs. Costrell, sartinly, he said, with emphasis. 'Come along, John. Yer must get Watson and put it in 'is hands. 'Ee's the law is Watson. Maybe, as Mrs. Costrell ull listen to 'im. Mary Anne ran to Bessie in despair.

I 'ave two two kids I 'ave; an' so 'elp me Gawd, things bein' as they are, I wouldn't say nothin' if one of 'em was Macnamara's wich it ain't no fear!" "Was Macnamara here you wouldn't say thaat to his faace, aw'm thinkin'." "I'd break 'is 'ulkin' neck first. I ain't puttin' these things on the 'oardins, an' I ain't thinkin' 'em, if 'ee's alive in the clutches of the 'eathen Kalifer at Homdurman.