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The intense anguish of parting with life, his daughter, his family, showed itself in the Jew in such strange and grotesque gesticulations, shrieks, and wriggles that we all could not help smiling, though it was horrible intensely horrible to us too. The poor wretch was half dead with terror.... 'Oy! oy! oy! he shrieked: 'oy... wait! I've something to tell you... a lot to tell you. Mr.

"If you want him, I s'pose I'll have to get him for you, but" he muttered an oath under his breath "you'll ruin me. Oy! Oy! I'll be glad when you're all in Dawson and at work." After some further talk the manager approached Phillips and made himself known. "Laure tells me you want to join our troupe," he began. "I'll see that he pays you well," the girl urged. "Come on."

Dave said: "Whoy shouldn't oy carry it?" An aspiration crushed by Aunt M'riar with: "Because you're seven!" So Dave, whose nature was as docile as his eyes were blue, undertook to deliver the message; and Michael presented himself in consequence, just after Uncle Mo had took a turn out to see for a newspaper, for to know some more of what was going on in the Crimaera.

Whether we exchange a horse or buy something or hire a labourer it's cheating in everything. Cheating and cheating. The Lenten oil in the shop is bitter, rancid, the people have pitch that is better. But surely, tell me pray, couldn't we sell good oil?" "Every man to his job, mamma." "But you know we all have to die? Oy, oy, really you ought to talk to your father...!"

Spicture comes back" thus Dave, accepting the offered formula, somewhat in the spirit of the true ballad writer "she's a-going to set in her own chair with cushions, just here!" He sat down with violence on a spot immediately below the proposed centre of gravity of the chair. "And then oy shall bring her her tea." "No, you s'arn't! Mrs.

In reporting his remarks the spelling cannot be too phonetical; if unintelligible at first, read them literally aloud to a hearer who does not see the letterpress. The conversation had turned on Dave's accident. "Oy sawed the firing gin coming, and oy said to stoarp, and the firing gin didn't stoarpt, and it said whoy whoy whoy!"

"Want me to chuck you off the cliff?" he said fiercely. "No, that I don't," I said, pretending to be horribly frightened. "Because, just you look here " "Ahoy oy!" "Ahoy oy! Ahoy oy!" I shouted back in answer to the faint cry that came from below, where we could see Bigley waving his hat.

Their joint attention was then given to the donkey-cart, in which old Tom Cogglesby sat alone, bunchy in figure, bunched in face, his shrewd grey eyes twinkling under the bush of his eyebrows. 'Oy, sir you! my man! exclaimed the tallest of the pair, resolutely. 'This won't do. Don't you know driving this sort of conveyance slap along the gravel 'ere, up to the pillars, 's unparliamentary?

A be a foine Bull, oo'r Bull!" "You mean, you can manage your Bull, and father can't. Is that it?" Assent given. "And how can you manage your Bull?" "Oy can whistle un a tewun." "Is he out in the field, or here in his stable or house, or whatever it's called?"

"Just push the switch in the corner and talk to it." Ishie turned, glanced at the panel, and went over to the switch, pushing it. "I wondered how you were concealing the teletype," he said. "You mean you really talk to it?" The Sacred Cow's voice came back. "Reference not understoo-od. Ple-ease explai-ain." "Oy!" said Ishie. "It even sounds like a cow!" "Ye-es, si-ir," said the Cow.