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"Ye're nearer to ut now. 'Garls' is what they are, at all events. But don't you see, my dear your man, it isn't the real thing we want so much as a sort of a proud beginnin', shorrt of slappin' their faces. Think of dinner. Furrst soup; that prepares ye for what's comin'. Then fish, which is on the road to meat, dye see? we pepper 'em. Then joint, Mr. And there, Mr.

Jest like wakin' in the mornin' after dancin' all night. Ye make the garls seem to hear me seemin' to say Oooo! I was so comfortable before your disturbin' me with your horrud voices. Ye understand, Mr. Braintop? 'I'm in bed, and you're a cold bath. Begin like that, ye know. 'Here's clover, and you're nettles. D'ye see?

Braintop's next effort was, "Ladies." "But they don't behave to me like ladus; and it's against my conscience to call 'em!" said Mrs. Chump, with resolution. Braintop wrote down "Women," in the very irony of disgust. "And avery one of 'em unmarred garls!" exclaimed Mrs. Chump, throwing up her hands. "Mr. Braintop! Mr. Braintop! ye're next to an ejut!" Braintop threw dawn the pen.

And he must let me have money, because I don't care for 'cumulations. Not now, when there's no young no garls and a precious boy, who'd say, when I'm gone, 'Bless her' Oh! 'Poor thing! Bless Oh! Augh!"

Wilfrud, becas I'm a widde and just an abom'nation to garls, poor darlin's! And twenty shindies per dime we've been havin', and me such a placable body, if ye'll onnly let m' explode. I'm all powder, avery bit! and might ha' been christened Saltpetre, if born a boy. She hasn't so much as a shot to kill a goose, says Chump, poor fella! But he went, annyway. I must kiss somebody when I talk of 'm.

And he must let me have money, because I don't care for 'cumulations. Not now, when there's no young no garls and a precious boy, who'd say, when I'm gone, 'Bless her' Oh! 'Poor thing! Bless Oh! Augh!"

Paricles that's got ye in his power and's goin' to be the rroon of ye shame to 'm! Your father's told me; and, oh! my darlin' garls, don't think ut my fault. For, Pole Pole " Mrs. Chump was choked by her grief. The ladies, unbending to some curiosity, eliminated from her gasps and sobs that Mr. Pole had, in the solitude of his library below, accused her of causing the defection of Mr.

Wilfrud, becas I'm a widde and just an abom'nation to garls, poor darlin's! And twenty shindies per dime we've been havin', and me such a placable body, if ye'll onnly let m' explode. I'm all powder, avery bit! and might ha' been christened Saltpetre, if born a boy. She hasn't so much as a shot to kill a goose, says Chump, poor fella! But he went, anyway. I must kiss somebody when I talk of 'm.

Braintop's next effort was, "Ladies." "But they don't behave to me like ladus; and it's against my conscience to call 'em!" said Mrs. Chump, with resolution. Braintop wrote down "Women," in the very irony of disgust. "And avery one of 'em unmarred garls!" exclaimed Mrs. Chump, throwing up her hands. "Mr. Braintop! Mr. Braintop! ye're next to an ejut!" Braintop threw dawn the pen.

The marital eulogy had touched her, and she was not a woman of coldly-flowing blood, she had an excuse for the constant employment of the fan. "And well, Mr. Paricles! have ye got nothin' to tell us about foreign countesses and their slips? Because, we can listen, sir, garls or not. Sure, if they understand ye, ye teach 'em nothin'; and if they don't understand ye, where's the harm done?