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Updated: May 31, 2025
'Theer's that Oliver o' Deaf Martha's. Naa, I lay aught he's noan so mich, wi' his dog-feightin' and poachin'. His missis wur up here t'other day axin' for some milk for th' childer. Theer's awlus enugh for them. 'Yes, I believe that is so. 'It wur that dog as welly killed Moses Fletcher, wurnd it? 'I think it was, replied Mr. Penrose. 'And haa is owd Moses sin yo' dipped him o'er agen?
'A summons if he willn'd pay for what he gets. 'Nay, the Bible does not say so. 'Ne'er mind th' Bible it's what aw say. After another painful pause, Mrs. Fletcher continued: 'Eh, Mr. Penrose, I do wish aar Moses 'ud find summat else to do nor lendin' brass and collectin' debts. We haven't a friend i' th' world naa, and we used never bein' baat.
"Naa I like to year thee say that," said Abe, "because I believe it was the Lord that put it into my yead, for I niver thowt abaat such a thing till I were telling Him my troubles just naa, and then it came to me all in a moment, like as if someone spake to me, and I says, I'll goa."
Hoo thinks a mighty lot o' parsons, I con tell yo'. Hoo's never reet but when hoo's oather listenin' to 'em or feedin' 'em, and the old man quietly broke into a laugh. 'An' dun yo' know what he sez abaat parsons, Mr. Penrose? I mud as weel tell tales abaat him naa he's started tellin' tales abaat me. Mr.
"All of our tribe were slain ... Naa and I alone escaped going far off To start another people and clan: She, the woman, and I, the man!" In my love-drunkenness, I looked directly at Hildreth as I read the last lines ... she lowered her head and picked at her sandal.... The applause was tumultuous.... Penton Baxter rose to his feet, as chairman of the occasion.... "I'm sure we all thank Mr.
"But your name is Naa ... my name is Kaa, the hunter, the slayer of good, red meat." "Johnnie, do you really see that, all that!" She was enthralled like a child, as I described the landscape that lay, spread immense, beneath us ... and the wide ocean, great and blue, that tossed to the east.
Penrose, they wor givin' th' "Messiah" at Edge End, and bed just getten to "How beautiful are th' feet." Naa, it wor arranged that aar Enoch mud play th' piccolo accompaniment, and he started fairly weel. Happen he wor a bit flat, for th' chapel wor very hot, an' most o' th' instruments aat o' pitch.
As aw seed it, tears coom in my een. Aw thought haa it bed helped mi when I lost o' mi brass, and when Joe deed, and aw tuk it up and said, "Can ta help me naa, thinksto?" An' aw put it together, and went aat on th' moors and began to play; and fro' that hour to this aw've never wanted to sup a drop o' drink. Naa, Mr.
It was that teapot, with its conspicuous urn design, that finally disillusioned him. I had just returned from putting it back in the chest for the third time when he missed it; and he announced the discovery with a profusion of perfectly unnecessary and highly inappropriate adjectives. "'Naa, then! he exclaimed truculently, 'where's that blimy teapot gone to? Hay?
Naa; I'd raither hev a meadow wi' posies, or th' moors when they're covered wi' yethbobs. If heaven's baan to be all streets, I'd as soon stop o' this side though they be paved wi' gowd an' o'. 'Listen yo', how hoo talks, Mr. Penrose. Hoo's awlus talked i' that feshion sin' hoo were a little un. Aar owd minister used to co her "God's child." Mr.
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