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Updated: June 4, 2025
"It seems to me," continued Gillie, "that they goes on the plan of spellin' one way an' purnouncin' another always takin' care to choose the most difficult way, an' the most unnatt'ral, so that a feller has no chance to come near it except by corkin' up one nostril tight, an' borin' a small extra hole in the other about half-way up.
But Uncle Sam will be on hand, he'll wade right in with a birch gad or a spellin' book, jest which he thinks they need most at the time, and settle the differences all right, and I believe it will be a star in his crown in time to come: turning the savages and cannibals that inhabit part of these new possessions into good American citizens.
"Guess you've bin spellin' out Gover'ment Reg'lations." "Yep. San'tary ones. Barney's thinkin' o' gettin' scoured in a kettle o' hot water," said Peddick, with a laugh. "Needs it," muttered a surly Kentuckian. "Hey!" interrupted Barney, quite undisturbed by his comrades' remarks upon his necessity for careful ablutions. "Them's Joe Bloc an' Dutch Kemp. I'd git Dutch's beard anywher's.
"Yes, an' we played Copenhagen, an' took sides spellin', an' Katy beat everybody spellin' there was there." Katy had not spoken; she was not so strong as her sister, and while Susan Ellen stood a step or two away addressing her eager little audience, Katy had seated herself close to her father on the doorstep. He put his arm around her shoulders, and drew her close to his side, where she stayed.
"'Drink the dipper dry' that shore does hit me where I live!" cried little Curley. "Did you make it up outa yore own head, Johnny?" "Naw. I made it up out of a spellin' book!" Johnny, being outnumbered five to one, decided to treat the whole matter with lofty unconcern. "Hand it over, Bud." Bud did not want to hand it over.
"I've bin studdyin' the spellin' o' the words in shop-winders an' posters, an', would you b'lieve it, they end the word Blang with a c." "You don't say so!" "Yes I do; an' how d'ee think they spell the name o' that feller Laycrwa?" "I'm sure I don't know," answered Susan. "They spells it," returned Gillie, with a solemn look, "L-e-c-r-o-i-x.
'Twas good f'r to see thim settin' ar-roun' th' parlor, Terence spellin' out th' newspaper, an' his good woman mendin' socks, an' Honoria playin' th' 'Vale iv Avoca' on th' pianny, an' th' kids r-rowlin' on th' flure. "But wan day it happened that that whole fam'ly begun to rasp on wan another.
But there, a head like yours 'd never guess why she went to a Registry Office, an' there weren't no banns at all. That overcame me. I seed the wisdom o' Providence from that hour. I be a converted man. An' I'm damned if I'll let you come along an' upset the apple-cart after all these years. Can 'ee write?" "Tolerable, though I'm no hand at spellin'." "Very well. We'll have a drink together at St.
The Boss went round askin' questions and I don't think he liked the look of them much either. I know he kept his lips shut pretty tight as we used to see him do sometimes in the Institute. I am awful glad he brought me along. He says I have got to write to you at least once a month, and I've got to take care of my writin' too and get the spellin' right.
'Me! exclaimed Sponge; 'bless your heart, man, I can't write anything nothing fit to print, at least. 'Hout, fiddle! retorted Spraggon, 'you can write as well as any other man; see what lots of fellows write, and nobody ever finds fault. 'But the spellin' bothers one, replied Sponge, with a shake of his elbow and body, as if the idea was quite out of the question.
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