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Updated: May 19, 2025
She've been the cherub aloft for me ever since I strained my eyes glazin' for the last peep o' Carnwall when us sailed. How be my lil Joan?" The other started, sat up in his chair and gripped the left arm of it, while his right hand extended before him and he jolted it curiously with all the fingers pointing down. "Joan Joan?
"I reckoned he'd a smote me, but he dedn'. He just turned rosy red an' stood glazin' at me as if I was a ghost." "I never see en look like that afore," declared Joan; "he 'peared to be afeared. But the door's shut 'gainst me now. I caan't do no more'n I have done. He'll never forgive." "As to that, Joan, I won't say. You bide quiet till the seed sprouts.
They regarded their leader fearfully, and there was something more than death in their eyes. "Wheer'm the bwoy Tom? For the love of God, speak, caan't 'e? Why be you all dumb an' glazin' that awful!" cried the woman, knowing the truth before she heard it. Then she listened to the elder Pritchard, who whispered his wife, and so fell into a great convulsion of raving, dry-eyed sorrow. "Oh, my bwoy!
Down below, the boat was heavin' i' the wash an' joltin' 'pon the rocks, an' I watched her bump, bump, up an' down, up an' down wi' Jeff jamm'd by the shoulders i' the bows, and glazin' up at me wi' a silly blank face, like as if he couldn' make it all out. As the tide rose him up nearer, I crawled away further up.
Why do 'e stand glazin' like that? A chap rode out for 'e 'pon horseback; an' a bit o' time be lost a'ready. They 'm swarmin' in the orchard, an' nobody knaws more 'n the dead what to be at." "I won't go. Let them get Johnson." "'Won't go'! An' five shillin' hangin' to it, an' Lard knaws what more in time to come! 'Won't go'! An' my poor legs throbbin' something cruel with climbin' for 'e!"
The soul of the painter has projected itself thrugh the august glooms." "Don't see it," sez I. "Them shadders want glazin and the middletints is no whur. The creteck regarded me With Contemptoous indignashun. "Hullo!" sed I next, "whose been and stolen a signboard, and stuck it up in this refined society?" "To what do you defer?" sez he, still very fridgid.
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