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Updated: June 14, 2025
Yo'll tak' th' dish and put it into th' hot waiter, and then tak' dish-cloth and rub it raand and raand, insoide and aatsoide, till it's clean, and then yo'll wipe it wi' a clean towel, and mak' it look just loike a bron new dish; and that's haa th' Lord does wi' a poor sinner: He gies him a plunge into th' Gospel fountain, weshes all his sins away, and brings him aat a bron new man."
And overawed and astonished with the boldness of his statement, he relapsed into silence. Amanda turned and looked at him clearly and unflinchingly, and cried: 'How dare yo' say that? 'Because you've repented, was the quiet reply. 'Haa do yo' know I've repented? 'Because repentance is to come home; and you've come home, have you not?
An' dun yo' remember, Betty, haa th' young gaffer laffed at me, an' said as aw could noan play wi' th' likes o' yo'? 'Yi, aw remember, Malachi; but ged on wi' yor tale. Mr. Penrose here is fair plagued. 'Indeed, I'm not. Go on, Malachi. Take your own time, and tell your story in your own fashion. 'Aw will, Mr. Penrose, if hoo'll nobbud let me.
'I've sin th' birds pool th' daawn off their breasts to line th' nest for their young uns. And why shouldn't th' angels do th' same for us? Mi faither says as haa snow is th' earth's lappin', and keeps all th' seeds warm, and mak's th' land so as it 'll groo. So I thought happen it wur th' way God feathered aar nest for us. Dun yo' see? It's nobbud my fancy. 'And a beautiful fancy, too, Milly.
The father called his son, and ka'-ag came down the tree, and, as the father went toward him, ka'-ag stood up clawing and striking at the man with his hands, and breathing a rough throat cry like this: "Haa! haa! haa!" Then the man ran home crying, and he never got his boys. Pretty soon there was a-sa'-wan nan ka'-ag with a babe.
Whose IS that blood but thine? Very well; but ah, "Preparing with such purpose, ye Heavens, what mournful cries are those that reach us: 'Death haa laid low thy Mother! Hah, that was the last stroke, then, which angry Fate had reserved for me. "Thus Destiny with a deluge of torments fills the poisoned remnant of my days.
Morell said to me when mi lad lay deead o' th' fayver, and noan on 'em would come near me. But aw sez, "Mr. Morell, theer's mony steps, an' I cornd climb 'em." An', doesto know, every time as I fretted and felt daan, I used to think o' him as was upstairs, and remember haa aw wur climbin' th' steps an' gettin' nearer him. 'But yo've noan getten to th' top yet, Gronny.
He's some fond o' thi bakin', I con tell thaa. Didn't he say as when he geet wed he'd bring his missis to thee to larn haa to mak' bread? 'Yi, he did, for sure! 'And so he will, said Mr. Penrose, stepping from behind the garden bush. 'You see your husband is right, Mrs. Ashworth. I've not forgotten it is baking-day, or that I was due at your house to tea.
Sally was in a flutter, she was full, it must come: "What hast ta been trying to do this mornin'?" she began, looking hard at him. "Why, I couldn't mak' her goa a bit somehaa," meekly replied her good man. "Goa! No, haa does th' think she could goa, thaa niver gat her on her feet."
As, however, his body lost strength, his spirit seemed to gain it; the words of the psalmist were ever on his lips, "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me, Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me." "Listen," he said one day, "when I can't spaike to tell yo' haa I feel, I'll lift my hand, and yo'll knaw all's weal."
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