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'You've been there ever since last night? 'Yes. 'Then 'He's not come. 'Well, he won't come at this time o' morning, said the farmer's wife. 'Do 'ee get on to bed, ma'am. You must be shrammed to death!
'Ah! said Ratsey, 'I was shrammed with wet and cold, and half-dead with this baffling wind. It is a blessed thing a fire, and he unbuttoned his pilot-coat, 'and needful now, if ever. I was new to the trade then, as thou might be, and could not sleep for noise of wind and sea.
And beer I knows I drinks beer, and more as I ought, but what's a chap to do when he's a'most shrammed wi' cold, and nar a bit o' nothin' in the pot but an old yeller swede as hard as wood? And my teeth bean't as good as 'em used to be. I knows I drinks beer, and so would anybody in my place it makes me kinder stupid, as I don't feel nothing then.
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