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Updated: June 24, 2025
"When they be'n't too poor to have time to sing," said grandfather James. "I tell ye, neighbours, when the pinch comes," said the tranter: "when the oldest daughter's boots be only a size less than her mother's, and the rest o' the flock close behind her. A sharp time for a man that, my sonnies; a very sharp time! Chanticleer's comb is a-cut then, 'a believe."
The children and I have no reluctance in speaking of mamma, and we don't think of her as here or buried, but as in a fine place, happy and well. Here are a few short extracts from the earlier letters: 'Cheer up, my dear sonnies! We shall see each other some day yet. Tell all your troubles to Jesus, and let Him be your friend.
Penny: "two and two: every man hitched up to his woman, 'a b'lieve." "I never can make a show of myself in that way!" said Fancy, looking at Dick to ascertain if he could. "I'm agreed to anything you and the company like, my dear!" said Mr. Richard Dewy heartily. "Why, we did when we were married, didn't we, Ann?" said the tranter; "and so do everybody, my sonnies."
If I strip by myself and not necessary, 'tis rather pot-housey I own; but if we stout chaps strip one and all, why, 'tis the native manners of the country, which no man can gainsay? Hey what did you say, my sonnies?"
Penny. The tranter nodded. Having at last made the tap and hole quite ready, "Now then, Suze, bring a mug," he said. "Here's luck to us, my sonnies!"
"Well, now, look here, my sonnies," he argued to his wife, whom he often addressed in the plural masculine for economy of epithet merely; "I don't see that. You dance and get hot as fire; therefore you lighten your clothes. Isn't that nature and reason for gentle and simple?
Why, sonnies, a man's not himself till he is fortified wi' a bit and a drop? We shall be able to look any gentleman in the face then without shrink or shame." Mail recovered from a deep meditation and downward glance into the earth in time to give a cordial approval to this line of action, and the meeting adjourned.
Now if he'd been a tenor or counter chap, we might ha' contrived the rest o't without en, you see. But for a quire to lose the treble, why, my sonnies, you may so well lose your . . . " The tranter paused, unable to mention an image vast enough for the occasion. "Your head at once," suggested Mr. Penny.
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.
"Yaas sonnies," said Charlie Burroughs, of the Third Michigan, in that nasal Yankee drawl, that he always assumed, when he wanted to say anything very cutting; "you trundle bed soldiers who've never seen a real wild Yankee don't know how different they are from the kind that are starved down to tameness.
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