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Updated: June 6, 2025
"Min' ye pit saut eneuch in't the day, Grizzie," he said. "It was unco wersh yesterday." "I had nane last nicht, ye min'," answered Cosmo, "I was oot a' the evenin'." "An' whaur got ye yer supper?" "Ow, I didna want nane. Hoot! I'm forgettin'! Aggie gied me a quarter o' breid as I cam by, or rather as I cam awa', efter giein' her a han' wi' her algebra."
Everybody do it real solemn, no giggling, no forgettin' your parts, where you go in and come out at and doin' that part about the butcher's wife and the tails just as fast as you can speak it and the end as s-l-o-w a-s s-l-o-w. Begin!"
An' yet waitin' 'pears the only way o' wisdom just here. You've never got room in that head o' yourn for more 'n wan thought to a time; an' I doan't blame 'e theer neither, for a chap wi' wan idea, if he sticks to it, goes further 'n him as drives a team of thoughts half broken in. I mean you 'm forgettin' your mother for the moment. I should say, wait for her mendin' 'fore you do anything."
He's my cousin, and mother knows him, and likes him; and he's been so good to us in a' this time o' trouble and heavy grief, and he'll keep mother in comfort all t' rest of her days. 'Ay, and thee in comfort. There's a deal in a well-filled purse in a wench's eyes, or one would ha' thought it weren't so easy forgettin' yon lad as loved thee as t' apple on his eye.
"They don't get the pepper sass into it these days they used to," he said. "These last two years, if it wa'n't for the red shirts and some one forgettin' and cussin' once in a while, you'd think they was classes from a theological seminary marchin' to get their degrees.
Come t' me, my lad, and show me t' lass, an' a'll just tak' a squint at her, an' tell yo' if she'll do or not; an' if she'll do, a'll teach yo' how to win her. 'They say another o' yon Corney girls is going to be married, said Mrs. Robson, in her faint deliberate tones. 'By gosh, an' it's well thou'st spoke on 'em; a was as clean forgettin' it as iver could be.
Then go on forgettin' her, an' give her up. When you come to think it over," urged Fancy with the air of a nurse who administers medicine to a child, "you'll find 'tis the only fit an' proper thing to do." Again 'Bias laughed, and this time his laugh was even shorter and grimmer than before. "Well and good but wait one moment, missy!
Were ye raised in this post av haythins?" "Maren Le Moyne of Grand Portage. My father was a smith." "Of Grand Portage! An' ye are so far inland! I am Sheila O'Halloran, av all Oirland, an' wife to Terence th' same, yer fri'nd for always, asthore, f'r niver will I be forgettin' this time!" She turned to the fair woman, smiling and alight. "Did ye iver dhrame av such romance, my dear?" she asked.
I got only to see a horse once once only and I'm never forgettin' thot horse! And I'm makin' no meestake now bet you' life!" Nevertheless, flicked with doubt because of the gravity of the other, he turned his head and gazed back at the horse long and earnestly. Finally he turned around again. "I know thot horse!" he yelled.
These Round House festivals with the paint, the feathers, an' the bells, fills their trop'cal hearts plumb full, an' forgettin' all about the white folks an' their gyarded ways, they're the biggest Injuns to warm a heel that night.
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