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Updated: June 26, 2025
He hollowed his hands to his mouth, he cleared his hoarse throat two or three times. Only a little trailing screech came from it at first. Then he cursed his weakness, and pulled himself together. "Jark! Jark Curtus!" he hailed, in an explosive voice. "Hullo!" The weak, small response floated down. "My lard! my poor lard! we've thought oor best, arnd we can do nothun fower 'ee."
Man, a' kent her lang afore ye ever luved her; a' brocht her intae the warld, and a' saw her through the fever when she wes a bit lassikie; a' closed her mither's een, and it wes me hed tae tell her she wes an orphan; an' nae man wes better pleased when she got a gude husband, and a' helpit her wi' her fower bairns.
"As a man as has allers borne a fair reputation," began Mr. Mr. "Ye may not disremember that about a month ago I fetched here what so be as we'll call a young man whose name might be as it were Milton Milton Chubbuck." Mr. "Thet same party I'd knowed better nor fower year, two on 'em campin' out together.
Then there is the elderly Scotch gentleman, who appropriately hails from the place with the outlandish name of Musquodoboit. He tells us that during the "airly pairt" of his residence in America he visited in the States, and that he has seen "fower Preesidents" inaugurated.
An' now, Isaac," the hoarse voice began to tremble "now there's two suverins left, and one 'arf-crown out o' seventy-one pound fower an' sixpence seventy-one pound, Isaac! Yo'll get it out on 'er, Isaac, yer will, won't yer?" He looked up, imploring. Isaac, after the first violent start, stood absolutely motionless, Saunders observing him.
"Open there! Open, I say, in the name of the Earl of Douglas!" "Fower o' the morning! Lord, what's a' the steer? In the name o' the Yerl o' Douglas! But wha kens that it isna the English? Na, na, Grice Elshioner opens not to every night-raking loon that likes to cry the name o' the Yerl o' Douglas ower oor toon wa'!"
When you've had a husband in his bed for fower year, miss, and he's took at last, you'll know." She nodded emphatically. Marcella laughed. "I know you were very fond of him, Mrs. Jellison, and looked after him very well, too." "Oh, I don't say nothin' about that," said Mrs. Jellison, hastily. "But all the same you kin reckon it up, and see for yoursen.
I wor turned back two days las' week, an' two days this, fower shillin' lost each week that's what I call skinnin' ov yer." Wharton nodded at him approvingly. By now he knew the majority of the men in each village by name, and never forgot a face or a biography. "You're right there, Watkins.
An' this went on till one day I broke out, an' borrowed th' brass for a drink from 'Liza. After fower days I come back, wi' my tail between my legs, just to see 'Liza again. But Jesse were at home an' th' preacher th' Reverend Amos Barraclough. 'Liza said naught, but a bit o' red come into her face as were white of a regular thing.
"Wanting the hat," continues my author, Kirstie, whom I but haltingly follow, for she told this tale like one inspired, "wanting guns, for there wasna twa grains o' pouder in the house, wi' nae mair weepons than their sticks into their hands, the fower o' them took the road.
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