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The pore woman's dead, and you can't bring her to life, and you may as well sit down comfortable, and finish another with us." "I don't mind taking just the least thimbleful ye can dream of more with ye, sonnies. But only a few minutes, because 'tis as 'tis." "Of course, you'll have another drop. A man's twice the man afterwards.
The quailing Leaf tried to look as if he had lived nowhere at all. "When all's said and done, my sonnies," Reuben said, "there'd have been no real harm in their singing if they had let nobody hear 'em, and only jined in now and then." "None at all," said Mr. Penny.
"There, never mind," said Elie Magus; "this Auvergnat seems to be too fond of you to mean to insult you." "How she would draw on the customers!" cried the Auvergnat. Mme. Cibot softened at this. "Be fair, sonnies," quoth she, "and judge for yourselves how I am placed.
"Well, my sonnies, there'll be a good strong party looking at us to-day as we go along." "And the body of the church," said Geoffrey, "will be lined with females, and a row of young fellers' heads, as far down as the eyes, will be noticed just above the sills of the chancel-winders." "Ay, you've been through it twice," said Reuben, "and well mid know."
"Ah, sonnies!" said the tranter, as Dick retired, "'tis a talent of the female race that low numbers should stand for high, more especially in matters of waiting, matters of age, and matters of money." "True, true, upon my body," said Geoffrey. "Ye spak with feeling, Geoffrey, seemingly." "Anybody that d'know my experience might guess that." "What's she doing now, Geoffrey?"
"''Tisn't goin' to do any such thing, said I, for I'd been studyin' the weather. 'And, even if it should happen, I've signals aboard. 'Tisn't the first time, sonnies, I've sat out a week-end on board a boat, alone wi' the Redeemer. "That settled it, sir.
"Hullo, my sonnies, here you be, then!" said Reuben Dewy at length, standing up and blowing forth a vehement gust of breath. "How the blood do puff up in anybody's head, to be sure, a-stooping like that! I was just going out to gate to hark for ye." He then carefully began to wind a strip of brown paper round a brass tap he held in his hand.
"'Tis a terrible muddle sometimes with the man, as far as spout do go," said Spinks. "Well, we'll say nothing about that," the tranter answered; "for I don't believe 'twill make a penneth o' difference to we poor martels here or hereafter whether his sermons be good or bad, my sonnies." Mr.
"Devil take the hole, the cask, and Sam Lawson too, that good cider should be wasted like this!" exclaimed the tranter. "Your thumb! Lend me your thumb, Michael! Ram it in here, Michael! I must get a bigger tap, my sonnies." "Idd it cold inthide te hole?" inquired Charley of Michael, as he continued in a stooping posture with his thumb in the cork-hole.
"Now putting two and two together," the tranter continued, as they went their way over the hill, and across to the last remaining houses; "that is, in the form of that young female vision we zeed just now, and this young tenor-voiced parson, my belief is she'll wind en round her finger, and twist the pore young feller about like the figure of 8 that she will so, my sonnies."
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