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'I gum my eye upon der Sherman Flag, grawlin' und grawlin' in Reingelder's fist, und der het vas not der het of innocence. "Mein Gott," I said. "It is you dot will get der sack der sack from dis life here pelow!" "Den you may haf der shnake," says Reingelder, pattin' it ubon her het. "See now, I will show you vat Yates haf written!"
How should she pe seeing with all ta earth apove her and ta cravestone too tat I know my poy Malcolm will pe laying on ta top of his old cranfather to keep him waarm, and let peoples pe know tat ta plind piper will be lying town pelow wite awake and fery uncomfortable?" "Excuse me, Mr MacPhail, but that's all a mistake," said Mr Graham positively.
"Ay, but like all things here pelow," remarked Ian Anderson, who possessed in a high degree the faculty of disputation, "it's not likely to last long." "What makes you think so, Ian?" asked Milly, who sat in the stern of the boat between John Barret and Aggy Anderson.
Cashgar is at the western end of the great desert, instead of the eastern, as expressed in the text; indeed this route is most confusedly, and almost unintelligibly laid down, probably from corrupted transcription. The series ought to have been, the high table land of Pamer, the province of Cashgar, and lastly, the desert of Pelow or Belur.
"I go to ze wall, ant will leap down, pot zere is vater pelow, ant I will not spoil my last tressing, so I go to ze gate. "Ze sentry go up and town wis one gon, ant look at me. 'Who goes zere? ant I was silent. 'Who goes zere ze second time? ant I was silent. 'Who goes zere ze third time? ant I ron away, I sprang in ze vater, climp op to ze oser site, ant walk on.
"Ta coot peoples up in ta town are not half so hart upon her as you, Mistress Partan," insinuated poor Duncan, who, knowing himself in fault, was humble; "and it's tere tat she's paid," he added, with a bridling motion, "and not town here pelow." I was oot o' my bed hoors or I hard the skirlin' o' your pipes. Troth I ken weel hoo muckle ower ear' ye was!
"Vell, if mens iss madt dere, vy dondt you go pelow?" "Good for you, Dutch!" cried Frank. "Hit him again. He's too fresh, anyway." "Where did you get it, Ned?" asked Jimmie. "You'll have to bake it when we get back to New York." "Better look out, lad," Ned replied, "this boy has the kick of a mule in his left. Let him alone."
"Put you pet me I haf a narrow escape," he added, seriously. "How far must I haf dropped if dot pully oldt khaki cloth gives vay?" "All of twenty feet, Noodles," declared Andy. "Dwenty feets! Ach, petter say dree dimes dot," asserted Noodles. "I gives you my word, poys, dot it seemed I was on der top of a mountain, mit a fine chance my pones to preak on der rocks pelow.
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