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Coming on deck upon the morning of the Bertha's first day in this new region, Ally Bazan gazed open-mouthed. Then: "I s'y!" he yelled. "Hey! By crickey! Look!" He slapped his thighs. "S'trewth! This is 'eavenly." Strokher was smoking his pipe on the hatch combings. "Rather," he observed. "An' I put it to you we've deserved it." In the main, however, the northward flitting was uneventful.
"Ortheris," I answered, sternly, for I knew what was in his mind, "do you mean to say that" "I didn't mean to arx money o' you, any'ow," said Ortheris; "I'd 'a' sold you the dorg good an' cheap, but but I know Mulvaney 'll want somethin' after we've walked 'im orf, an' I ain't got nothin', nor 'e 'asn't neither, I'd sooner sell you the dorg, sir. 'S'trewth! I would!"
Anyway, while Dick and I were busy, digging like niggers and listening like Indians for Meg didn't bark, not being trained to the work, and all we could hear was a thud, thud now and then, and the hard breathing of the grapple all of a sudden the old hag spoke, for the first time that day "S'trewth, but I've gripped!"
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