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Updated: June 6, 2025
'Randyvowse! said he at length, 'it were a good job it were brenned down, for such a harbour for vermin a never seed: t' rats ran across t' yard by hunders an' thousands; an' it were no man's property as a've heerd tell, but belonged to Chancery, up i' Lunnon; so wheere's t' harm done, my fine felly? Philip was silent.
"We've no abiding city here." "The grass withereth, the flower fadeth." "Never, never more," says poor Poe's raven. Listen, m'n! Ye'll hear Shakespeare's immortal thunder. The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces dissolve with the great globe itself and all that it inherits. It's all there, Paul. It's in the hiccoughing throat of him. Puir felly!
'Here's a felly as a fund on t' fell side, just as one as if he were drunk; but he's sober enough, a reckon, only summat's wrong i' his head, a'm thinkin'. 'No! said Philip, sitting down on the first chair he came to. 'I'm right enough; just fairly wearied out: lost my way, and he fainted. There was a recruiting sergeant of marines sitting in the house-place, drinking.
Ye were a little felly when we last met. I'm Peggy Donohoe that was Peggy Grant now, since I married poor dear Grant that's dead. And, sure, rest his sowl!" here she sniffed a little "though he treated me cruel bad, so he did! Ye'll remember me brother Mick Mick with the red hair?" "Yes," said Charlie, slowly and deliberately, "I remember him well; and you too.
The soldier whipped the end of the bullock-hide lariat round the tree to which he held, and began to oscillate it, so that the blazing bush might reach the ledge on which the daring convict sustained himself. The groan which preceded the fierce belching forth of the torrent was cast up to them from below. "God be gude to the puir felly!" said the pious young Scotchman, catching his breath.
"Go on wid yer sacrifice, me dear felly. I presume, av coorse, that it will be in ordher for me to ate some av it. Let the fishes be well cooked, by-the-way, and sarved wid some kind av sauce. I'd almost as lave be devoured meself as devour raw fishes." "Really, I have some scruples," smiled the mischievous professor. "You might shock the devotional feelings of your new worshippers."
Scratch 'em, and they won't bleed. Shoot 'em, and they'll pick out the bullets and paste ye wid 'em. Reason wid 'em, and they'll insult ye. Refine 'em, Jawn! Ye're crazy. Luk at thot felly down there under the hatch. He's here on his weddin' trip, but he lift his wife behind in the old country." "That makes no difference," answered John, ruminatively; "I can refine 'em.
Yer mither must be looked after; but i' the meantime let me tell ye that yer uncle Daavid is a douce, cliver felly, an' fears naething i' this warld. If he did, he wadna be amang the intercommuned. Be sure he's no' the man to leave his sister Maggie in trouble. Of course ye'll be wantin' to be aff to look after her." "Of course instantly," said Wallace. "Na.
Havin' put its hand to th' plow, it will l'ave no stone unturned to probe th' mysthry. Ye seen that felly wid Farwell. He's th' railway detective!" "Meaning that they're out to round up somebody, eh?" said Casey. "All right, Corney; let 'em go to it." "In me official capacity," said Mr.
It was all started, apparently, by a worthless 'felly' from Castleton, who had a great reputation as a medium, and would come over on summer evenings to conduct seances at Frimley and the places near. 'Lias, already in an excitable, overworked state, was bitten by the new mania, and could think of nothing else.
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