Whereby either the mare hadn' noticed the improvement or it escaped her memory. Anyway the night bein' dark she shoots old Bosenna neck-an'-crop 'pon the stones. It caused a lot o' feelin' at the time, an' the coroner's jury spoke their minds pretty free about it.
There's a hole in the roof of that new cottage of his that a man may put his Sunday hat dro'; and as for his old Woman, she'll do nought but sit 'pon the lime-ash floor wi' her tout-serve over her head, an' call en ivery name but what he was chris'ened." "Nothin' but neck-an'-crop would do for Tresidder, I'm told," said Old Zeb.
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