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"Ef yer feel's dat er way 'bout it, der ain't no mo' use a-talkin'. Dere's gwine ter be nary 'lection h'yer ef it really troubles you ladies dat 'er way." So it was decided, and once again there was peace.
"Capm, I feel's though Heaven'd strike me if I should eat your victuals," he whispered, his voice having failed him. "I feel a sort o' superstitious 'bout it. I want to die with a clear conscience." But when they rose his strength gave out entirely, and he dropped down fainting. "Now ate yer mate," said Sweeny, in a passion of pity and anxiety. "Ate yer mate an' stand up to yer marchin'."
She run'd off an' got married, but wen she got down she war too spunkey to axe her pa for anything. Wen you war wid her, yer know she only took big bugs. But wen de war com'd 'roun' it tore her all ter pieces, an' now she's as pore as Job's turkey. I feel's right sorry fer her. Well, Robby, things is turned 'roun' mighty quare. Ole Mistus war up den, an' I war down; now, she's down, an' I'se up.
Every time I set on a haircloth chair I feel's if I was draggin' anchor." The cot was declared ineligible, also, and the question was finally settled by Josiah and Captain Eri going upstairs to the room once occupied by John Baxter, while Ralph took that which they vacated. It was some time before he fell asleep. The gale seemed to be tearing loose the eternal foundations.
Why, some days it's been so's I'd feel's if I'd bust if I didn't do suthin' suthin' to let off steam." The young man nodded. "You ought to be an artist. That's the way they feel some of them." Uncle William beamed on him. "You don't say so! Must be kind o' hard work, settin' still and doin' art when you feel like that. I gen'ally go clammin', or suthin'." The artist laughed out, boyishly.
"Well, well, you're jest all tired out with your journey, an' a cup o' tea's the thing you want, an' none o' my talk; but you see Mis' Melville 'n me's so intimate that I feel's if I'd known you always, 'n I'm real glad to see you here, real glad; 'n I'll bring the tea right over; the kettle was a boilin' when I run out, 'n I'll send Jim right down town for Captain Melville; he's sure to be to the library.
He's a dear, friendly little creatur', an' likes to stay with us a good deal, though we feel's if it 't was too cold for him, now we are waitin' to get us more wood." "When I think of the acres o' woodland in this town!" groaned Rebecca Wright. "I believe I'm goin' to preach next Sunday, 'stead o' the minister, an' I'll make the sparks fly.
Take the money. I consent. Whatever you feel's best for you, that's what I want." He altogether ignored her interruption, and went on in the same tone. "I used to think it grand, and now it all seems nothing. I do assure you when I was down there handing out a halfpenny stamp or signing a two-shilling order, I used to feel large enough to burst with satisfaction.
Turning to Elizabeth again, "I used t' look over t' your house an' feel an' feel 's if I could only see you an' talk a while, I'd git over wantin' t' be s' mean, but you wouldn't never come t' see us an' an' I didn't feel's if I didn't feel free t' go any more, 'cause ma said you didn't want t' be sociable with our kind of folks."
Esthetic, you know the beauty part of it." "Yuh, sure, that's the word. 'Sthetic, that's what it is. Yes, 'sthetic. But, just the same, it makes me feel's though I believed in all sorts of things." "Tell you what I believe may happen, though," exulted Morton. "This socialism, and maybe even these here International Workers of the World, may pan out as a new kind of religion.
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