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Updated: June 15, 2025
"'Adn't no chance, Samuel 'adn't. Been a delicate child ever since 'is mother stopped suckin' 'im," explained the father with a sympathetic shake of his head. The cold blue eye appraised the boy's hulking mass. "'E don't look it," continued Mr. "His ah brain?" Again the blue eyes appraised the boy, this time scanning critically his face for indication of undue brain activity.
Here's the suckin' kid; let Uncle Byle heft him once. Gosh, baby, you want to grab uncle's nose, do you? Well, then, pull away till the cows come home. What's 'is name?" "Richard," answered the mother. "Why didn't you name him after me? P. B. Arlington would sound sort of uppercrusty, eh? 'Richard, you say? Oh, I see. Named for your daddy's Orleens brother, the cripple! Yes! yes!
"Oh! bother the danger," cried Peterkin; "I wonder to hear you, Jack, talk of danger. When a fellow begins to talk about it, he'll soon come to magnify it to such a degree that he'll not be fit to face it when it comes, no more than a suckin' baby!" "Nay, Peterkin," replied Jack, gravely, "I won't be jested out of it.
It will do your old heart good to go down to the edge of the pond on the fust of May, or thereabouts, accordin' to the season, jist at sun down, and hear 'em sing. You'll see the little fellers swell out their cheeks, and roar away like young suckin' thunders. For the frogs beat all natur there for noise; they have no notion of it here at all.
Noa, by the Lord! No school larnin' for me nor mine, thank-ee! Why, the marster of the Board School 'ere doant know more practical business o' life than a suckin' calf! With a bit o' garden ground to 'is cot, e' doant reckon 'ow io till it, an' that's the rakelness o' book larnin'. Noa, noa!
Little by little he changed his tone when speaking of his "friend," whom Long Jack had christened "the Crazy Kid," "the Gilt-edged Baby," "the Suckin' Vanderpoop," and other pet names; and with his sea-booted feet cocked up on the table would even invent histories about silk pajamas and specially imported neckwear, to the "friend's" discredit.
Wolf, you can say I said that John L. Sullivan and Peter Jackson, and the Wild Man o' Borneo were suckin' infants in arms to you. My colonial oath, but that blessed dingo has been killed good an' plenty, and a steam-hammer couldn't kill him no more!"
"Why, to drop in on a lone woman unexpected, an' find her sittin' down to roast suckin' pig . . . it's it's like Solomon an' the lilies." Captain Cai flushed half-guiltily. "I didn't say I called quite unexpectedly, did I?" "To break the ice, was your words." "You see, I'd happened to meet Mrs Bosenna the evenin' before, an' hullo!"
I'm as thirsty as a salt cod an' there's so precious little water left in th' keg that I'm afraid t' begin at it for fear of suckin' it all up." "Drinking fountains?" Rayburn, who was a little in advance, called back to us. "Well, so they did. Come along and drink as much as you want to." "Cut that, Rayburn," Young answered. "I'm too dead in earnest about my being thirsty to stand any foolin'."
"She kips on a-talkin," he purred. "She dawn't get much answer though." "Well, don't eat that candle anyway, you little glutton!" "Oi warn't eatin it," said Blob, aggrieved. "Oi were suckin it." The Parson arranged what food there was on the floor. "Honour and salt-beef campaigners' fare! as Nelson used to say in Corsica.... "And while you're at that, I'll get on with my story."
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