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But what I mean is; we be all glad you've come back from them out-o'-the-way parts. 'I had to go there, Holt. 'Well; we don't know much about that, sir, and I don't mean nothing about that. 'To tell the truth, my friend, I should not have done very well here unless I had been able to top-dress the English acres with a little Australian gold. 'Like enough, squoire; like enough.
"I shouldn't put a ticket marked 'Look at this! on that coat," he said, severely. "It oughtn't to be looked at." "It's the best out o' three all 'anging together," said Mr. Kybird, evenly. "And look 'ere," said Mr. Smith. "Look what an out-o'-the-way place you've put this ticket. Why not put it higher up on the coat?" "Becos the moth-hole ain't there," said Mr. Kybird. Mr.
It is because you live so solitary here, and it is such a gloomy out-o'-the-way spot so awfully dark and damp, nobody could be well here, and you really must change. It is the very temple of blue-devilry, and I assure you if I lived as you do I'd cut my throat before a month you mustn't. And old Tamar, you know, such a figure! The very priestess of despair.
THERE were once five learned men, who had been shut up all their lives in their studies, poking their noses into saucepans full of cookeries, which did not resemble savory soups or well-flavored ragouts, wearing their eyes out with reading books printed in the crabbedest black letter possible, and shrivelling up their brains with thinking, until they quite rattled inside their skulls, all in pursuit of out-o'-the-way knowledge.
"I shouldn't put a ticket marked 'Look at this! on that coat," he said, severely. "It oughtn't to be looked at." "It's the best out o' three all 'anging together," said Mr. Kybird, evenly. "And look 'ere," said Mr. Smith. "Look what an out-o'-the-way place you've put this ticket. Why not put it higher up on the coat?" "Becos the moth-hole ain't there," said Mr. Kybird. Mr.
He had also purchased an old-fashioned double-barrelled fowling-piece, muzzle-loading and with percussion locks. "For you see, Nigel," the captain had said, "it's all very well to use breech-loaders when you've got towns and railways and suchlike to supply you wi' cartridges, but when you've got to cruise in out-o'-the-way waters, there's nothin' like the old style.
Keep me movin' enough, an' I 'm twenty year old summer an' winter both. I don't know why 't is, but I 've never happened to mention the one I 've been to see. I don't know why I never happened to speak the name of Abby Martin, for I often give her a thought, but 't is a dreadful out-o'-the-way place where she lives, and I haven't seen her myself for three or four years.
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