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Updated: May 3, 2025
He thought Donal was boring his guests, and at the same time preventing Gibbie from having the pleasure in their society for the sake of which they had been invited. Donal rose, replying, "Think ye sae, sir? I thoucht I was in auld Scotlan' still here as weel's upo' Glashgar. But may be my jography buik's some auld-fashioned. Didna ye un'erstan' me, mem?" he added, turning to Ginevra.
"Ain't you fit to kill a body with laughing?" said the tall lad, rolling over and over in an ecstasy of mirth on the short grass. "No, I ain't christened Jography. My heyes! what a rum go that ud be! No, no, little uns, yer humble servant have had heaps of names. In Lunnon I wor mostly called Joe Barnes, and once, once, long ago, I wor little Alphonse Malet.
Now, as we has got to walk all the way, and can't on no account go by no train, though we may get a lift sometimes ef we're lucky, we has got to know our road. Look you yere, young uns, 'tis like this," Here Jography caught up a little stick and made a rapid sketch in the sand. "See!" he exclaimed, "this yere's France. Now we ere up yere, and we want to get down yere.
There's pertaters to be fried, an' the children's lunches to put up, an' John Alexander's lost his jography I believe that boy'd lose his head if it twarn't glued to his shoulders. There's a button off Stephen's collar, an' Susan Ann wants her hair curled, an' Polly's frettin' to be taken up.
"She's got a way with her, has Susan," she went on quite volubly. "I've been thinking all morning of one thing she said yesterday. She says, 'Once when I was givin' th' children a bit of a preach after they'd been fightin' I ses to 'em all, "When I was at school my jography told as th' world was shaped like a orange an' I found out before I was ten that th' whole orange doesn't belong to nobody.
Moseley's motherly kindness won it from her. But, nevertheless, during the long, long days they spent together, she was not proof against the charms of the tall boy whom she believed Jesus had sent to guide her, and who was also her own fellow-countryman. All that long and pathetic interview which Cecile and her dying stepmother had held together had been told to Jography.
"But that's a way Jesus has, Jography. He does not always tell people when He is sending them. But He does send them all the same. It's very simple, dear Jography, but I was a long, long time learning about it. For a long time I thought Jesus came His own self, and walked with people when they were little, like me.
He's jes' like his pa the very spittin' image of him! Mr. Wiggs was so educated the most fluent man in jography I ever seen!" "I'm goin' to be like Mr. Bob when I grow up," said Billy, stoutly. His recollection of his paternal parent was not the sort ideals are made of.
"'Tenny rate, I don't mean to be early this morning it's jography, and I don't know my lesson; but I do think you might speak about the horse, Deena; I never get a bit of sport worth countin'" this in a high, grumbling minor. "There was Ben; he had his automobile here the whole summer, and never offered it to me once!
We won't go round, we'll go straight across, and the first thing is to make for Paris. We'll go first to Paris, say I." "And are there night's lodgings in Paris?" asked Maurice, "and food to eat? and is it warm, not bitter, bitter cold like here?" "And is Paris a little town, Jography?" asked Cecile.
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