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Updated: June 29, 2025
"Bless my heart, Capua!" cried Mr. Raleigh, removing the stem from his lips; "how came you here?" "Lors, Massa, it's only me," said Capua. "So I see," replied his master, restoring the pipe to its former position. "How did you come?" "'Bout swimmed, I 'spect," answered Capua, grounding a chuckle on a reef of ivory. "'Ta'n't no fish-story, dat!" "Well, what brings you?"
"Et tant s'en faut que je veuille que l'on croie toutes les choses que j'ecrirai, que meme je pretends en proposer ici quelques unes que je crois absolument etre fausses; a savoir, je ne doute point quo le monde n'ait ete cree au commencement avec autant de perfection qu'il eu a; en sorte que le soleil, la terre, la lune, et les etoiles ont ete des lors; et que la terre n'a pas eu seulement en soi les semences des plantes, mais que les plantes meme en ont couvert une partie; et qu' Adam et Eve n'ont pas ete crees enfans mais en age d'hommes parfaits.
There's this bundle, now," thumping it lustily, "any other chap 'ud make a pretty penny out on it. But me! lors, I shall sell 'em for pretty near what I paid for 'em." "Have you got a bit of good net, now?" said Mrs. Glegg, in a patronizing tone, moving from the tea-table, and folding her napkin. "Eh, mum, not what you'd think it worth your while to look at. I'd scorn to show it you.
"Sally," said Tom, when they reached the kitchen door, and Sally looked at them in speechless amaze, with a piece of bread-and-butter in her mouth and a toasting-fork in her hand, "Sally, tell mother it was Maggie pushed Lucy into the mud." "But Lors ha' massy, how did you get near such mud as that?" said Sally, making a wry face, as she stooped down and examined the corpus delicti.
"Un Français," says M. de Stael, with great truth, "scait encore parler, lors meme il n'a point d'idees;" and the reason why a Frenchman can do so is, because ideas, which are the essential requisites in conversation to any other man, are not so to him.
She refrained from doing so, however, and some time later, as she was sitting in the dusk in the same room, the man-servant came in to light the gas and made her start, observing which, he said, "Why, lors, Miss Ellen, you jump as if you had seen a ghost." In spite of her late experience, Ellen very gravely replied, "Nonsense, William, how can you talk such stuff!
"Lors, no, indeed! I guess I ain't! Why should I be afraid of a respectable-looking gentleman like you, sir?" "And so you are going home? Where is your home, pretty one?" "On the other side of the river. But you need not keep on calling me 'pretty one; it must be as tiresome to you to repeat it as it is to me to hear it." "What shall I call you, then, my dear?"
Lors!" added Bob, laying down his pack on the gravel, "it's a thousand pities such a lady as you shouldn't deal with a packman, i' stead o' goin' into these newfangled shops, where there's half-a-dozen fine gents wi' their chins propped up wi' a stiff stock, a-looking like bottles wi' ornamental stoppers, an' all got to get their dinner out of a bit o' calico; it stan's to reason you must pay three times the price you pay a packman, as is the nat'ral way o' gettin' goods, an' pays no rent, an' isn't forced to throttle himself till the lies are squeezed out on him, whether he will or no.
He isn't a dog as 'ull be caught wi' gingerbread; he'd smell a thief a good deal stronger nor the gingerbread, he would. Lors, I talk to him by th' hour together, when I'm walking i' lone places, and if I'n done a bit o' mischief, I allays tell him. I'n got no secrets but what Mumps knows 'em. He knows about my big thumb, he does." "Your big thumb what's that, Bob?" said Maggie.
The margravine conjures them by their troth to tell how they parted from her husband, saying that the lie must have an end. Then spake the fiddler, Swemmelin the messenger: Lady, we wished to deny to you that which we yet must say, since no man could conceal it; after this hour, ye see Margrave Rüdiger no more alive. The margravine, we are afterward told, dies of grief at the news, as does old Queen Ute at her abbey of Lors.
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