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An' I be gwaine to lock 'e in, Chris, if't is all the same to you. For why? Because you might fancy the van folks was callin' to 'e, an' grow hungry for the rovin' life again." She made no objection, and asked one more question as they went to the building. "How be Mrs. Hicks, my Clem's mother?" "Alive; that's all. A poor auld bed-lier now; just fading away quiet. But weak in the head as a baaby.

I guess she won't now, it's gettin' so late," said Betsey Lane. "She likes to go rovin' soon as the roads is settled." "'Tis Mis' Fales!" said Peggy Bond, listening with solemn anxiety. "There, do let's pray her by!" "I guess she's headin' for her cousin's folks up Beech Hill way," said Betsey presently. "If she'd left her daughter's this mornin', she'd have got just about as far as this.

"Because it's o' no use to risk our scalps for the chance o' makin' peace wi' a rovin' war-party. Keep yer head down, Henri! If they git only a sight o' the top o' yer cap, they'll be down on us like a breeze o' wind." "Hah! let dem come!" said Henri. "They'll come without askin' yer leave," remarked Joe drily.

"Well, that's the time it come up, an' it's never been tired enough to lay down sence." "What became of Gabriel?" "I skeered 'im, and he went off into the woods pertendin' he was tryin' to catch a bullet. That's the kind o' ball I allers use when I have a little game with a rovin' angel that comes kadoodlin' round me." "Did you ever see him afterward?" inquired Yates. "Yes, I seen him.

Ma'am, you're a angel! Jam, ma'am you're a nymp' you're two nymp's "'I oft would cast a rovin' eye Ere these white 'airs I grew, ma'am, To see a 'andsome nymp' go by, But none s' fair as you, ma'am. "An' there's me hand on it, ma'am." "My land!" ejaculated Mrs.

We went to the mow and search for the pennies, but not one of them could we find. I remembered that when I saw them last Amos had them in his hand. "I'm awful 'fraid for him ayes I be!" said Aunt Deel. "I'm 'fraid Rovin' Kate was right about him ayes!" "What did she say?" I asked. "That he was goin' to be hung ayes! You can't play with him no more.

That is my business and yours. Thanking you for reading this, I am, as ever, "God's humble servant, KATE FULLERTON." "Why, this is the writing of the Silent Woman," I said before I had read the letter half through. "Rovin' Kate?" "Roving Kate; I never knew her other name, but I saw her handwriting long ago."

"What in the name of the nation 'ud bewitch any people to go rovin' out of their house in the middle of the black night, wid the frost thick on the ground?" "Quit they are," said the old man. "Tom's gone, and the wife, and every man-jack of them. They've took the couple of chuckens I noticed Tishy killin' of yisterday.

They've been rovin' round the country, livin' a month here and a month there wherever they could get work and house-room. They quarreled a couple o' weeks ago and he left her. She and the little boy kind o' camped out in an old loggin' cabin back in the woods and she took in washin' for a spell; then she got terrible sick and ain't expected to live." "Who's been nursing her?" inquired Miss Jane.

"I do' mean no erfence, 'ceptin' dat John allus was of a rovin' dispersition." "Very well, you know no more about your brother after his departure for the West Indies?" "No, suh." "Well, it is my mission to tell you the rest of the story. Your brother John landed at Cuba, and after working about some years and living frugally, he went into the coffee business, in which he became rich." "Rich?"