But I wisht it was home in his own house he was to be," she replied, raising her skirt, and stuffing the purse into a large pocket that hung round her waist over a red flannel petticoat; "han't he lessons enought learnt?" "Oh, but he loves going to Oxford, Mrs. Twomey," said Christian; "he's looking forward to it awfully; and I'm going to France to do lessons, too!
Mary, lass, ye've been mixin' the victuals. Why, what have we here?" "Moose nose," replied the girl with a look of pleasure. "I do b'lieve so it is! Why, where got ye it? I han't killed a moose for three weeks an' more." "Me kill him meself," said Mary. "You!" "Ay, me! with me own gun, too!" "Capital!" cried Dick, tossing back his heavy locks, and gazing at the child with proud delight.
"I don't doubt there's a likeness, Master Penny a mild likeness a fantastical likeness," said Spinks. "But I han't got imagination enough to see it, perhaps." Mr. Penny adjusted his spectacles. "Now, I'll tell ye what happened to me once on this very point. You used to know Johnson the dairyman, William?" "Ay, sure; I did."
'Trust me, I will indeed, said I, shaking hands with Ham earnestly. 'Thankee. Thankee, very kind, sir. One thing furder. I'm in good employ, you know, Mas'r Davy, and I han't no way now of spending what I gets. Money's of no use to me no more, except to live. If you can lay it out for him, I shall do my work with a better art.
I neither doubt thy Industry, nor Love; Go, and be careful of my Interest there, Whilst I preserve thine as intirely here. SCENE III. Sir Timothy's House. Enter Sir Timothy, Sham, Sharp, and Boy. Sharp. Good morrow, Sir Timothy; what, not yet ready, and to meet Mr. Bellmour at Five? the time's past. Sir Tim. Ay, Pox on't I han't slept to Night for thinking on't. Sham.
When Marcella had taken the only other chair the hovel contained, nothing else remained for Wharton but to flatten himself as closely against the door as he might. "I'm sorry I can't bid yer take a cheer," said Mrs. Jellison to him, "but what yer han't got yer can't give, so I don't trouble my head about nothink."
I gave her something hot and put her to bed, and she'll do, I reckon; but I tell you it gave me queer feelings to see the poor little thing just as white as ashes, and all of a tremble, and looking so sorrowful too. She's sleeping finely now; but it ain't right to see a child's face look so it ain't right," repeated Mrs. Van Brunt, thoughtfully; "You han't had supper, have you?"
The vessel was a kind of top-sail schooner, but with a hull there was no mistaking, the more by token that the tide was swinging her stern-on, and showing him a pair of windows picked out in red paint, with shutter-boards and brass hinges shining. "Mr. Rogers," he said, "I han't read the Sherborne Mercury lately, but is is the war over?" "No, nor likely to be." "But, Mr.
Mas'r Davy, he added; answering, as I think, my look; 'you han't no call to be afeerd of me: but I'm kiender muddled; I don't fare to feel no matters, which was as much as to say that he was not himself, and quite confounded. Mr. Peggotty stopping for us to join him: we did so, and said no more.
"My sweetheart han't a-took up wi' anybody else she've a-been faithful and true." "What's that?" inquired Mrs. Baverstock, coming forward, her little black eyes looking ready to start from her head. "Tis a kind of a little joke what me and Billy have a-got between us about my sweetheart. There, he can tell 'ee the tale while we're eatin'. This 'ere be my mother, Billy. This be Mr.