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Updated: June 21, 2025
Daylight, dis tam you mek one beeg meestake," French Louis said, straightening up and stepping down from the chairs. "Only one damn iron man can do dat. One hundred pun' more my frien', not ten poun' more." The sacks were unlashed, but when two sacks were added, Kearns interfered. "Only one sack more." "Two!" some one cried. "Two was the bet." "They didn't lift that last sack," Kearns protested.
John discovered his affection for his half-savage mother, and promised to provide for all her necessities. "It's only ta poun' o' taa, an' ta bit cabin ta shelter her she'll want at a'," but the tears fell heavily on the red, hairy hands; "an' she'll na tell her fat ill outsent cam to puir Sandy." "Thou kens I will gie her a' she needs, an' if she chooses to come to Orkney "
"I did not," answered Cosmo; "but all the same " "The Lord be praised for his abundant an' great mercy!" cried Grizzie, more heartily than devoutly. "We may contrive to win ower the twa poun', even sud ye no work it oot; but fifty! the Lord be aboot us frae ill! so sure's deith, ye wad hae had to tak the lass! Cosmo, ye canna but ken the auld tale o' muckle-moo'd Meg?" "Weel that," replied Cosmo.
"Fer if ye be, I'm a goin' up." "All right," I answered, struggling to my knees in the narrow space; "only take it slow, Jed. I 'm a trifle bigger man than you, and this is rather close quarters." "Wal, yes, maybe a matter of a poun' er two," he retorted, and the next moment I could hear him scraping his way upward, feeling for foothold upon the irregular layers of stone.
Ah, ye Englishmen!" he spoke half to himself, and sadly, as if deploring the unhappy accident of his nationality; "it's yer grand, open-hairted generosity that grips a puir Scotsman by the throat. A poun'! and for yon!" He wagged his head mournfully, cocking it sideways the better to scan his subject. "Take him or leave him," ordered the drover truculently, still gazing out of the window.
He drove with the killing cruelty of a stampeder, and they loved him. "You say you have grub cached at the old Indian hut on the Good Hope?" questioned Willard. "Sure! Five poun' bacon, leetle flour and rice. I cache one gum-boot too, ha! Good thing for make fire queeck, eh?" "You bet; an old rubber boot comes handy when it's too cold to make shavings."
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