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Updated: May 6, 2025
Physic for't there's none; It is a bawdy planet, that will strike Where 'tis predominant; and 'tis powerful, think it, From east, west, north and south: be it concluded, No barricade for a belly, know't; It will let in and out the enemy With bag and baggage: many thousand on's Have the disease, and feel't not.
'Twould be a butivul thing to let 'em marry an' feel't was thanks to us." "You want to go giving them money?" "Not 'give' 'zactly. Us'll call it a loan, till the time they see their way clearer." Phoebe sighed and was silent for a while. "Poor dears," she said at length. "I feel for 'em in my heart, same as you do; yet somehow it doan't look right." "Not right, Phoebe?" "Not wise, then.
"I must go," she said; "the moon has set and dawn is near. Dying be so easy; living so hard. But live I will; I swear it, though theer's awnly my poor mad brain to shaw how." "Clem's son, mind. An' let me be the first to see it, for I feel't will be the gude pleasure of God I should." "An' you promise to say no word, whatever betides, an' whatever you hear?"
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