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An' 'tis the same here, 'cause God's eye be on you, Joan Tregenza, an' His eye caan't be fixed 'pon no spot wi'out brightening all around. You mind me, that's solemn truth. The Lard's watchin' over you watchin' double tides, as the sailors say and so this bit o' airth's smilin' from the herb o' the field to the biggest tree as graws.
Wise though the man was, he set no store on the dark, hidden meaning of honey-bees at times of death. Now the creatures be masterless, same as you an' me; an' they'll knaw it; an' you'll see many an' many a-murmuring on his graave 'fore the grass graws green theer; for they see more 'n what we can."
Tennyson renders very naturally the action of the northern farmer's nag and the sound of its movement, by "Proputty, proputty sticks an' proputty, proputty graws." And an excellent example of the effect of well-chosen words, to express the sound produced by the subject referred to, occurs in the Morte d'Arthur: "The many-knotted waterflags, That whistled stiff and dry about the marge."
They do live braave an' happy, with gude health, an' gude wives, an' money, an' the fruits of the land; they do get butivul childer, as graws up like the corners of the temple; an' when they come to die, they shut their eyes 'pon kind faaces an' lie in lead an' oak under polished marble. All that be theers; an' what was his my son's?"
"Beg pardon, miss; visitors his not permitted on the graws." "For the land's sake, why not?" "It's against the rules, miss." "Suppose it is! What will happen if I break 'em?" Morris looked discomfited, pushed his hat from his forehead, and murmured vaguely that he 'sposed she'd be punished. "Who by? Who does the grass belong to, anyhow?"
"I never want to. You'm grawing to be much to me by slow stages. Yet these here tales. This child Timothy. Who's his faither, Will, an' who's his mother?" "How the flaming hell should I knaw? I found him same as you finds a berry on a briar. That's auld history, surely?" "The child graws so 'mazing like you, that even dim eyes such as mine can see it."
Wait a while till that brown bwoy graws a bit dim in Phoebe's eyes. Your life 's afore you, and the gal 's scarce marriageable, to my thinking. Build your house and bide your time." "So be it; and if I don't win her presently, I sha'n't deserve to." "Ess, but taake time, lad.
"Allowed the Lard o' Hosts graws a bit short in His temper now an' again, as with them gormed Israelites, an' sich like, an' small blame to Him; but He's all for mercy at heart, 'cordin' to the opinion of these times, so you'd best to dig." "Why doan't he strike me down if I've angered Him not this innocent cheel?" "The sins of the fathers be visited " began Mr. Blee glibly, when Mrs.
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