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"I don't know as Billy should want t' shield her more'n common sense p'ints. I feel she ought t' know. 'T ain't pleasant t' get a knock in the back of yer head; an' that's what Janet's goin' t' get some day about Billy." "He says she knows enough; an' he ain't goin' t' have her pestered." "Well, t'-morrer I'm goin' on," nodded Davy, "an' Billy ain't goin' t' honey fugle me none.
The history of American settlement could, I suppose, be read in those wayside letter-boxes, in such names, for instance, as "Theo. Leveque" and "Paul Fugle," which, like wind-blown exotics from other lands, we found within a few yards of each other. One name, that of "Silvernail," we decided could only lawfully belong to a princess in a fairy tale.
The usual type of Anglo-Saxon poetry has two alliterations in the first half of the line and one in the second. The lines vary considerably in the number of syllables. The line from Beowulf quoted just above has nine syllables. The following line from the same poem has eleven: "Flota f=amig-heals, fugle gel=icost." The floater foamy-necked, to a fowl most like.
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