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Updated: June 20, 2025
"But, bless you, the whole house is your own, if it comes to that, and every mortal thing in it. Everything I've got's yours except my razors and my braces, and a few little things of that sort that I'm keeping for myself." She passed her hand over her forehead, as if to brush away the irritating impression of his folly. "Come," he said, "let's begin. What do you want moved first? And where?"
There's no comfort for me no more," she went on, the tears coming when she began to speak, "now thy poor feyther's gone, as I'n washed for and mended, an' got's victual for him for thirty 'ear, an' him allays so pleased wi' iverything I done for him, an' used to be so handy an' do the jobs for me when I war ill an' cumbered wi' th' babby, an' made me the posset an' brought it upstairs as proud as could be, an' carried the lad as war as heavy as two children for five mile an' ne'er grumbled, all the way to Warson Wake, 'cause I wanted to go an' see my sister, as war dead an' gone the very next Christmas as e'er come.
It's some mild f'm here to Poetical, an' sharp ridin' at that." Each time that Steering had heard that, little varied in phraseology, save for the number of "sights," according to his progress, he had felt so dismal and looked so dismal that, each time, the native before him had added quickly, "Better git off an' spin' the night with us. Aint got much, but what we got's yourn."
"All are equal, my dear friend! all are equal! Ve are all Got's children. The poorest man haf the same rights with me. Jack! Jack! some more sugar and brandy. Dhere is dhat fellow now! He is a Mulatto but he is my equal. That's right, Jack! Shake hands with me, you dog! Dhere, dhere! We are all equal my dear friend!
"You haven't the ghost of a temperament, Herbert; you know you haven't." "He got's a lovely bedside manner," Lindsay remarked, "and that's the next thing to it." "Rubbish! I don't want to hurry you," Alicia glanced at the watch on her wrist, "but unless you and Herbert want to miss half the first act you had better be off.
"Did you want it for your mother?" broke in Robin, sympathetically. Beryl's face flushed redder. "Well, not exactly. That's the way it always is in books, but in life, when you're poor, it's each fellow for himself and there's not any time for your grand sounding self-sacrifice. I wanted it to buy a violin. That thing I've got's nothing but a cheap old fiddle.
"And I say `Amen, sir. But come back to camp, and let's get you a bit of something to eat; and, I say, sir, you did give my hand a deep cut. Think that new sword you've got's as sharp as the one I whetted for you?" "I don't know, Samson," said Fred, drearily. "I hate the very name of sword." "And so do I, sir, proud as I was the first day I buckled mine on.
He'd do a damn sight better with it. He'd have a good time with it, and make everybody in the neighbourhood happy, and you'd burn it up in one of your confounded reform clubs. Well, all I've got's a sister and a nephew, so I guess the money's goin' to be wasted anyhow. But one way's as good's another, and Henry's goin' to get a fair break, and don't you forget it."
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