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Updated: May 7, 2025
"'Twas writ by that doctor-woman an' sent t' you, Skipper Tommy t' tell me t' break it easy that she'd run off from Wayfarer's Tickle because o' the sin she'd found there. I misdoubt oh, I misdoubt that she've been afeared I'd that I'd mistook her, poor wee thing an' turn her off. I call the Lard God A'mighty t' witness," he cried, passionately, "that I'd take her home, whatever come t' pass!
"As to church-gwaine," he said, on a Sunday morning when he and his elder niece had driven off to Sancreed as usual, leaving Joan in the orchard; "she've larned to look 'pon it from a Luke Gosp'ler's pint o' view. Doan't you fret, Polly. Let her bide. 'Twill come o' itself bimebye wan o' these Sundays. Poor tiby lamb! Christ's a watchin' of her, Polly.
"God grant 'tedn' nothin' like that, though maybe 'twould be better than t'other. Us caan't say she've run away, but I thot I'd tell 'e how things is so's you could spread it abroad that she'm lost. Maybe us'll hear somethin' 'fore the day's much aulder. I be gwaine to Penzance now an' I'll let 'e knaw if theer's anything to tell.
There's a deal of feeling on his side seemingly, but I don't answer for her. I didn't know a word about any such thing till yesterday, and all I heard then was that she was gwine to the party at his house to-night. This is the first time she has ever gone there, they say. And they say that she've not so much as spoke to him since they were at Greenhill Fair: but what can folk believe o't?
"She've lied to me," was his answer; "she've lied oftentimes; she'm false to whatever I did teach her; she've sawld herself she've no more on it no more on it but awnly this: I call 'pon God A'mighty to bear witness she'm no Tregenza never never." "'Tweer her mother in the gal; but doan't 'e say more 'bout that, Michael.
The girl swore for their innocence. "As for Miss Lucy, she haven't a bit of art in her, nor have he." "They're all nature, I suppose," said Adrian. "How is it I don't see her at church?" "She's Catholic, or some think," said Molly. "Her father was, and a leftenant. She've a Cross in her bedroom. She don't go to church.
"Better late than never, as they say," he cried, when the Kestrel and the Albatross hove in sight. "Tomkins, signal to make sail and close. We seem to be moving more lively at last. I suppose we are out of that infernal under-tow." "Well, sir, she seems like herself a little more. She've had a witch on board of her, that's where it is.
And missus say, she can't trust the bloaters about here bein' Yarmouth, but there's a soft roe in one she've squeezed; and am I to stop a water-cress woman, when the last one sold you them, and all the leaves jellied behind 'em, so as no washin' could save you from swallowin' some, missus say?" Sir Purcell rolled over on his side.
"I thought I might be able to do something for her." The woman became attentive at last. "Any small trifle you might think o' leavin' with me, sir, it should duly reach her. She've failed a lot, lately." "Thank you; I'll think it over. Good-day." He strolled back to the Pack-horse and ate his dinner.
It bain't the same as if she'd truly m'urned for en, but she've a-taken up wi' a new young man, says she, 'what walks out wi' her reg'lar. 'My dear, says I, 'if anything should happen to your nevvy, which the Lard forbid, she'll never have the face to come to ax for his bits o' things, seein' as she haven't been faithful to en. 'She will though, says Susan, an' 'tis the talk o' the place that she will."
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