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"Well, 'taint a suent engine at the best, Elias that o' yourn," said his affable leader, "nor to be lightly trusted among the proper psa'ms, 'specially since Chris'mas three year, when we sat in the forefront of the gallery, an' you dropped all but the mouthpiece overboard on to Aunt Belovely's bonnet at 'I was glad when they said unto me." "Aye, poor soul. It shook her.
I've ate a little of everything in my day, but I'm skeered to risk my digestion on Deuteronomies and Psa'ms!" "Well, you needn't come beggin' 'round here, and trackin' in the mud," announced Myrtella firmly. "I'm done with you! You had just as good a chance to get on as me. I never ast favors of nobody; I went to work an' hustled.
"Eh, but that's a trifle for a campaigner." "Let this be a warnin' to 'ee, my son niver to save no more lives from drownin'." "I won't," promised Young Zeb. "We've found 'ee a great missment," Elias observed to him, after a pause. "The Psa'ms, these three Sundays, bain't what they was for lack o' your enlivenin' flute I can't say they be.
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