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But you bide till he'm back. I be sorry as I spawk so sharp, but you was that bowldacious that my dander brawk loose. Aw Jimmery! to think as you dedn' knaw you was cheeldin'!" "'Twas hearin' so suddint like as made me come over fainty." "Ate hearty then. An' mind henceforrard you'm feedin' an' drinkin' for two. Best get to bed so soon's you can. Us'll talk 'bout this coil in the marnin'."
You've been treated ill, an' I'm cryin' that such a gude gude, braave, big-hearted man as you, should be brought to this for a fule of a gal like me. I ban't worthy a handshake from 'e, or a kind word. An' an' Clem Hicks Clem be tokened to me these two year an' more. He'm the best man in the world; an' I hate un for not tellin' 'e an' an' "
Don't they larn 'ee manners to College?" Tulke gasped and wheeled. Solemnly and conscientiously Mary kissed him twice, and the luckless prefect fled. She stepped into the shop, her eyes full of simple wonder. "Kissed 'un?" said Stalky, handing over the money. "Iss, fai! But, oh, my little body, he'm no Colleger. 'Zeemed tu-minded to cry, like." "Well, we won't.
"Surely, surely, Joan; an' I love you for yourself tu nobody better in this world." "You wouldn' go for to send me to hell-fire, would 'e?" "God forbid, lass! Why, whatever be talkin' 'bout?" "Uncle Thomas, faither's not my faither no more now. He've turned me out his house an' denied me. I ban't no darter of his henceforrard; an' he'm no faither o' mine.
Just a flicker o' purpley fire an' a hunderd pound gone! 'Tis 'nough to make a body rave." The girl flushed, and something of her father's stern look seemed reflected in her face. "He stawl my money. No, I judge his word be truth: he'm no faither o' mine if the blood in the veins do count for anything."
But let en wait for the last trump as'll rip the deep oceans. An' the feesh damn 'em if I thot they'd nose Tom, by God I'd catch every feesh as ever swum. But shall feesh be 'lowed to eat what's had a everlasting sawl in it? God forbid. He'm theer, I doubt, wi' seaweed round en an' sea-maids a cryin' awver his lil white faace an' keepin' the crabs away.
"Here is some mistake!" interrupted the Alderman, throwing an uneasy glance at his young friend. "I count four-and-fifty years, and remember no such calamity." "He'm werry sing'lar how a young folk do forget! 'Ere war' drown six people in dat werry-boat. A two Yankee, a Canada Frenchman, and a poor woman from a Jarseys. Ebbery body war werry sorry for a poor woman from a Jarseys!"
"Have a care lest you let the man fall into the sea!" cried Wilder sternly, from his stand on the distant poop. "He'm tailor, masser Harry," returned the black, without altering a muscle; "if a clothes no 'trong, he nobody blame but heself." During this brief parlance, the good-man Homespun had safely arrived at the termination of his lofty flight.
I caan't feel 'tis so yet. I caan't feel as he'm truly dead. An' yet 'twas no lie, for I seed en, an' stood 'longside of en." "God's Hand be everywheer in it. Think if I'd read poor Joan's letter an' tawld 'e wheer the man's plaace of livin' was!" "Iss, then I'd have slain en. 'Tis such lil things do mark out our paths.
"You must knaw he runned away an' went soldiering before he married me. Then he comed back for love of me wi'out axin' any man's leave." "So much the worse, ma'am; he'm a desarter!" "The dark wickedness!" gasped Mr. Blee; "an' him dumb as a newt 'bout it all these years an' years! The conscience of un!" "Well, you needn't trouble any more," continued Phoebe to the policemen.
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