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Updated: May 5, 2025
He had heard one of the speakers say: "I've met un, ever so laate, stalkin' aloong like th' devil. Tes aw token o' a bad conscience. Tes dreadful to think about. I got owt o' his way.... I'd as soon speak to th' devil. Iss, aw'd." Charles had thought nothing of this chatter at the time, but he wondered now if they were talking of Thalassa.
I've seen men put out for votin' Liberal; I've seen 'em put out for free-thinkin'; all sorts o' things I seen em put out for. 'Tes that makes the bad blood. A man wants to call 'is soul 'is own, when all's said an' done. An' 'e can't, not in th' old country, unless 'e's got the dibs." "And yet you never thought of emigrating?"
"De trouble wid Wellin'ton wuz," she replied, "dat he did n' know when he wuz well off. He wuz alluz wishin' fer change, er studyin' 'bout somethin' new." "Ez fer me," responded the elder earnestly, "I likes things what has be'n prove' an' tried an' has stood de tes', an' I can't 'magine how anybody could spec' ter fin' a better housekeeper er cook dan you is, Sis' Milly.
Parson Morth wanted to know if he couldn't let his cottage to an invalid lady and her sister without consulting every wash-mouth in the parish. "Aw, so there's two!" said one of them, nodding her head. "But tell us, Parson dear, ef 'tes fitty for two unmated women to come trapesing down in a po'shay at dead o' night, when all modest flesh be in their bed-gowns?"
"You've got some good ones there!" The lame man's face brightened. He had the upward look in his eyes which prolonged suffering often brings. "Yeas; they'm praaper buties; gude milkers tu." "I bet they are." "'Ope as yure leg's better, zurr." "Thank you, it's getting on." The lame man touched his own: "I know what 'tes, meself; 'tes a main worritin' thing, the knee.
I'd zee her sometimes of an avenin' when I was bringin' up the calves; ther' she'd stand in th' orchard, under the big apple tree, lukin' straight before 'er. 'Well, I used t'think, 'I dunno what 'tes that's the matter wi' yu, but yu'm lukin' pittiful, that yu be!" The old man refit his pipe, and sucked at it reflectively. "Yes?" said Ashurst.
One day, about kroust-time, having fired two holes, they came out of the "end" in which they wrought and sat down to lunch while the smoke was clearing away. "'Tes a brave lode," said Maggot. "It is," responded Trevarrow, taking a long draught of water from the canteen. "What shall us do?" said Maggot; "go to grass to slaip, or slaip in the bal?" "In the bal, if you do like it," said Trevarrow.
The f^tes of the peasants are things to go and see, and the unalterable differences of rank are deeply impressed on the American mind. An old peasant woman has brought cheese and milk into Aix for forty years, and now, in her sixties, she still brings them, and walks eight miles a day.
The old man smiled that smile was the reverse of a bitter tonic coated with sweet stuff to make it palatable. "'Tes the want of a life takes 'em," he said. "There's not a many like me. There's not so many as can't do without the smell of the earth. With these 'ere newspapers 'tesn't taught nowadays. The boys and gells they goes to school, and 'tes all in favor of the towns there.
"Par ses derniers soupirs il ebranle cet ile; Cet ile que son bras fit trembler tant de fois, Quand dans le cours de ses exploits, Il brisoit la tete des Rois, Et soumettoit un peuple a son joug seul docile. "Mer tu t'en es trouble; O mer tes flots emus Semblent dire en grondant aux plus lointains rivages Que l'effroi de la terre et ton maitre n'est plus.
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