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Updated: May 24, 2025
Penrose, as I want ony friends. 'I think there's one Friend you cannot do without the one you recommended me to keep in the pulpit. Don't you think we need Him in the home as well? 'Ther's noabry kept Him aat o' aar haas, as I know on, hes ther, Sally? said Moses, turning to his wife. 'Doesto think 'at onybody's axed Him? she replied.
Gang ye awa' to yer bed, and min' yer vow to God and to me. And dinna forget yer prayers, Alec." Neither of them forgot his prayers. Alec slept soundly Mr Cupples not at all. "I think," he said, when Alec appeared in the morning, "I winna tak sic a hardship upo' me anither nicht. Jist open the cat's door and fling the bottle into somebody's yard. I houp it winna cut onybody's feet."
"It's Sam Learoyd," the man replied, "and he wants to know if onybody's wantin' to buy his dowter." "Black Sam o' Fieldhead Farm! By Gow! I reckon he's bin crazed sin his missus left him for t' barman. But he hasn't gotten no dowters, nor sons nowther. It'll be his stepdowter, Mary Whittaker, that he's browt to market."
But at lang length shoo turned to Throp an' shoo said: 'Let's put t' clock back, an' then, if onybody's passin' an' looks in on us, an' wants to know why we're workin' of a Sunday morn, we can show 'em t' clock. "Throp said nowt for a bit; he was a soft sort o' a chap, an' didn't want to start fratchin' wi' his wife.
"No, Rob," she said after a short pause. "I couldna dae that. It wad neither be fair to you or me, nor to onybody else." "But, Mysie," he went on in the low tender voice that was so difficult to withstand, "you don't like Peter weel enough to be his wife. You say you never intended to be onybody's wife but mine; an' what wye should you no' do as I propose?
"Thou couldst not look like Gavinia," the prince said, shaking his head. "Wha wants him to look like Gavinia?" cried an indignant voice. "Peace, Agnes!" said Stroke. "Agnes, why bletherest thou?" said Sir Joseph. "If onybody's to watch Miss Ailie," insisted the obstinate woman, "surely it should be me!" "Ha!"
'Them heifers ull want a deal o' grass puttin into 'em afoor they'll be wuth onybody's buyin, Davy, said Reuben, inspecting his mixed herd with a critical eye from a roadside bank, as they climbed the first hill on their return journey.
"A stranger sud aye be welcomed to onybody's hoose." "I didna ken it was your hoose." "Ow na. It's no my hoose. It's the Lord's hoose.
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