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Updated: May 8, 2025
But this was vetoed by Aunt Betsy, who, having finished the back door sill, had now come around to the front, and, with her scrubbing brush in one hand and her saucer of sand in the other, held forth upon the foolishness of the girls. "Of course if they had a beau, they'd want a t'other room, else where would they do their sparkin'." That settled it.
I need Mandy the worst kind, an' ye know it. I couldn't spare the girl nohow. An' there's another thing; I won't have no sparkin' aroun' this place. No huggin' an' kissin'. There's none for me an' there'll be none for you. Love, pah! I reckon that's all ye've got. Love! Ye make me sick to my stomach, Nal Roberts. Ye've bin readin' dime novels, that's what ails ye. Love!
"A jealous devil, I suppose," said he, when he read Mr. George Foxley's note. "Well, he might have come off worse. But I should like to know who the country lass was that he'd been sparkin', and who revenged herself like that." A few weeks afterwards Mildred was married to George Albert Dacre Foxley, of Foxley Manor, Notts, by the Rev. Mr. Higgs in the village church.
"Yes, you bet. Seen him this mornin' showin' off the soles o' his boots on Peter McNabb's veranda an' readin' novels. Soft snap them preacher fellows have. Nothin' in the world to do but run after the girls. Don't wonder that you're headin' that way yourself; guess Mr. Egerton thinks you're tryin' to get up to him in the religion business, so he'll race you in the sparkin' line. Haw! Haw!"
The farmer laughed as he replied: "Oh, she'll git over thet w'en she gits sixteen an' goes sparkin' an' wants t' whiten her teeth." Leaving the hospitable farm house with the tobacco question still unsettled, an early start was made for a run to Ozark.
He continued to mutter in this way as he went across to the other side of the field. As they turned to come back, Rob went up and looked at the horse's mouth. "Gettin' purty near of age. Say, who's sparkin' Julia now-anybody?" "Nobody 'cept some ol' Norwegians. She won't have them. Por wants her to, but she won't." "Good f'r her. Nobody comes t' see her Sunday nights, eh?"
"An' I'se for shootin' Harney," interrupted the little Mug, her eyes flashing, and her nostrils dilating as she continued: "I knows it's wicked, but I hates him, an' I never tole you how I seen him in de woods one day, an' he axes me 'bout my Miss and Mars'r Hugh did they writ often, an' was they kinder sparkin'? I told him none of his bizness, and cut and run, but he bawl after me and say how't he steal Miss Ellis some night and make her be his wife.
He knows you an' him's bin sparkin', an' he's real mad. That's by the way, he sez. 'What I want to tell you's this. You're goin' to marry me, sure. See? An' your father's goin' to make you. An' Miss Dianny jest laffed right out at him. But her laff wa'n't easy.
"Ye think a great deal o' yersel', because ye're frae Las Palomas. Aweel, no vaquero of auld Lance Lovelace can come sparkin' wi' ma lass. I've heard o' auld Lovelace's matchmaking. I'm told he mak's matches and then laughs at the silly gowks. I've twa worthless sons-in-law the noo, are here an' anither a stage-driver. Aye, they 're capital husbands for Donald McLeod's lassies, are they no?
"You know I never keered fer you, or any other man. Don't you and Dora begin to quarrel now." Andy looked sullen, and Dora scared. At length Dora took speech timidly. "Billy will be here in a minute." "Billy who?" asked Andy. "Billy Caughey," she answered. "He came over in the same ship with me." "Oh, I s'pose you've been sparkin' with him ag'in! You pitched him over to take me "
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