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Updated: June 4, 2025
Then a sound roused her the sound of a voice speaking loudly, breaking off to laugh, and speaking again. The voice she knew, but the laugh she had never heard. She started up and listened. It was her husband who had wakened her. "How do it go then? Lard! my memory be like a fishin' net, as holds the gert things an' lets the little 'uns creep through.
'Tis this way: Queen Victoria, as have given of the best she've got wi' both hands to the high men of the land, so they tell me, caan't forget nought, even at such a time as this here. She've made gert additions to all manner o' men; an' to me, an' the likes o' me she've given what's more precious than bein' lords or dukes. I'm free me an' all as runned from the ranks.
"Caan't 'e see 'twas faither's gert, braave, generous thought to give 'e work, an' shaw a lesson of gudeness? An' then we meet again " "Ess fay happy meetin' for wife an' husband, me up to the eyes in Theer, any fule can see 'twas done a purpose to shame me." "You're a fule to say it! 'Tis your silly pride's gwaine to ruin all your life, an' mine, tu.
She was "Gert" to the boys, and from the propinquity of that sliver of store and the natural loquacity of Miss Kirk, which would have overflowed a much more generous area, Lilly was to learn much of life as it is lived on that bias which is cut against the warp and woof of society. Miss Kirk had twice been up in night court.
Gertie Dobriner patted her ringed fingers against her mouth to press back a yawn and trailed across the room, adjusting her hat before a full-length mirror. In the light from a single electric bulb her hair showed three colors yellow gold, green gold, and, toward the roots, the dark gold of old bronze. "You can go now, Gert." "Yes, madam." Miss Dobriner adjusted a spray of curls.
Better shave it off before Gert starts kidding you about it. Have a cigar?" Carl felt at home for the first time in a year; for the first time talked easily. "Say, Gertie, tell me about my folks, and Bone Stillman." "Why, I saw your father just before we left, Carl. You know he still does quite a little business.
I could see you, honey-bee, coming back to me with the kind of lift to your head a fellow has when he's been fighting to make the world a safe place for dem for whatever it was he said. I want you to go, Jimmie. I want you to beat the draft, too. Nothing on earth can make me not want you to go." "Why, Gert you're kiddin'!" "Honey, you want to go, don't you?
We 'm likely to meet when Martin do come home again from honeymooning." "Will, I must tell you something something gert an' terrible. I should have told 'e 'fore now but I was frightened." "Not feared to speak to me?" "Ess, seeing the thing I had to say. I've waited weeks in fear an' tremblin', expecting something to happen, an' all weighed down with fright an' dread.
Driving homewards half an hour later, Chris Blanchard told Martin that part of her story which concerned her life after the birth of Timothy. "The travellin' people was pure gawld to me," she said. "And theer's much to say of theer gert gudeness. But I can tell 'e that another time.
"I thought I was roused long arter midnight by a gert knocking, an' I went down house an' found a woman at the door. 'Who be you? I sez. 'Why, I be Chris, brother Will, she speaks back, 'Chris, come home-along to mother an' you. Then I seed it was her sure enough, an' she telled me all about herself, an' how she'd dwelt wi' gypsy people. Natural as life it weer, I assure 'e."
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