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Updated: May 28, 2025
'E give 'isself up an' I takes 'im along I makes 'im walk in front o' me yer can't take no risks wi' them bastards. 'E turns rahnd an' says ter me in English 'e must 'a' bin a clurk or a scholard 'e says, sarcastic like, 'I s'pose yer think yer goin' ter win the war! I gets me rag out an' tells 'im ter mind 'is own bleed'n' business. I tells 'im if I catch 'im lookin' rahnd agin I'll kill 'im!
If we go and lie out on the north 'ill a bit this afternoon we'll get 'im." "You're a bloodthirsty little mosquito," said Mulvaney, blowing blue clouds into the air. "But I suppose I will have to come wid you. Pwhere's Jock?" "Gone out with the Mixed Pickles, 'cause 'e thinks 'isself a bloomin' marksman," said Ortheris, with scorn,
An' I do 'ope, Mis' Deane, as now yer goin' off to 'and over old David's effecks to the party interested, ye'll come back safe, for the poor old dear 'adn't a penny to bless 'isself with, so the cinder must mean the journey, an' bein' warned, ye'll guard agin the coffin at the end." Mary smiled rather sadly. "I'll take care!" she said. "But I don't think anything very serious is likely to happen.
And Brother Simmons, who claims to be an expert in constitutional law and procedure knows I have the floor. Ma pint of order is this, that there is no business before the meeting and as apparently only aboot half the members are absent " "And 'oo's fault is that? 'E was to get them 'isself," shouted Mr. Simmons.
Caradoc lay limp and motionless, with a dark stain slowly spreading on the boards under his head. "Tell me about this," commanded Leonard, thrusting a hand under the prostrate man's shirt and feeling for his heart. The request set loose a babble. "'E did it 'isself, sor!" "Split hopen 'is own 'ead, right enough!" "W'ack, 'e took 'isself, w'ack!" "Aye, that 'e did, sor!"
He'll 'ave it out with Mary beforehand, if he gets the chance, but he won't do 'er bodily injury. He swears he won't do that. He admits he's done 'er enough 'arm. Do you know wot he told me? and he cried like a baby when he told me, too. David, he actually sold 'is wife to Bob Grand when he gave up the show." "Good heaven, Joey!" "He told me so 'isself, sitting right there.
'E were a melancholy cove for any young woman to 'ave to live with. But there, as my old mother used to say, 'any old barn-door can keep out the draught!" The younger man looked up: "What sort o' tragedy?" he asked. "The Colonel pizened 'isself, and the question was did 'e do it o' purpose? Some said yes, and some said no. I was in it by a manner of speaking." "You was in it?"
"A gert, tall think 'e be, wi' a 'orn on 'is 'ead, and likewise a tail; some might ha' thought 't was the Wanderin' Man o' the Roads as I found 'angin' on t' stapil some on 'em du, but I knowed better I knowed 't were Old Nick 'isself, all flame, and brimstone, an' wi' a babby under 'is arm!" "A baby?" I repeated. "A babby as ever was," nodded the Ancient.
The lights were switched off. The Efficient Baxter dragged himself away. From the darkness in the direction of the servants' door a voice spoke. "Greedy pig!" said the voice scornfully. It sounded like the fresh young voice of the knife-and-shoe boy, but Baxter was too broken to investigate. He continued his retreat without pausing. "Stuffin' of 'isself at all hours!" said the voice.
It was difficult not to laugh at this statement, Prue's eyes were so round, her cheeks were so red, and she breathed so spasmodically as she spoke. David Helmsley bit his lips to hide a broad smile, and poured out his tea. "Have you no father?" "No, never 'ad," declared Prue, quite jubilantly. "'E droonk 'isself to death an' tumbled over a cliff near 'ere one dark night an' was drowned!"
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