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Updated: May 22, 2025
The postman darted by on his bicycle, forgetful of letters, thinking only of the stag; pretty girls from the neighbouring Badgeworthy Farm, and Lorna Doone Farm tore up a hill, laughing and screaming. "They'm found! They'm found!" yelled the farm hands. Everybody shouted. Everybody ran, or at least danced up and down; and wilder than all was the joy of our Exmoor ponies, Mrs. Senter's and mine.
Mugford, who listened with unusual interest, and without either contradiction or interruption, which was a most unusual thing. But at last she broke out with much earnestness: "You'm right, you may depend, Mrs. Fry; you'm right. That mazed man is the man that they'm a-sarching for; and it's my belief that he isn't mazed at all but so well in his head as you and I be, just pretending like.
His hands were full of cabbage which he had been taking to the rabbit. 'What is it, little one? 'These here! 'The graves? 'Ah. They'm so drodsome. Edward pointed to a laburnum-tree which had rent a tomb, and now waved above it. 'See, he said. 'Out of the grave and gate of death 'Ah! But her as went in hanna come out. On'y a new tree. I'll be bound she wanted to come out.
And Jack Thistlewood's a bulldog. Mek your ch'ice betwixt 'em while they'm there to be chose from. Which is it to be? Butterfly or bulldog? But Bertha answered nothing. Things may have changed of late years, but in those days the parish churchyard was the great meeting-place for lovers who as yet were undeclared or unaccepted.
With each different sinister noise, Roger Dymond felt his hold over himself gradually going ... going.... Next to him in the trench crouched Newman, a soldier who had been in his platoon in the old days when they tramped, sweating and half-dead, along the broiling roads towards Paris. "They'm a blasted lot too free with their iron crosses and other souvenirs," growled that excellent fellow.
'Tw'ud be worse than death to Jerrem if't should iver come to Adam's ears: why, he'd have his life if he swung gallows-high for takin' of it. So, like a good maid, keep it from un now, 'cos they'm all on the eve o' startin', and by the time they comes home agen Jerrem 'ull have forgot all about 'ee." Eve hesitated: "I told him if ever he spoke like that to me again I'd tell Adam."
I dunna like this shop, said Hazel tearfully. 'What'm they doing to 'im? Oh, they'm great beasts! Perhaps she had seen in her dim and childish way the everlasting tyranny of the material over the abstract; of bluster over nerves; strength over beauty; States over individuals; churches over souls; and fox-hunting squires over the creatures they honour with their attention.
'Ye see, lads, he continued, 'it's like this: This is Turn Tunks, this is Billy's brother. They'm my nevews, the pair on 'em. Billy's laid up with a broken leg, and Turn's come here to show for him for the honour o' the family. I thought he knowed a bit about it, or I wouldn't ha' suffered him to come.
Each was set with a large ruby that stared unwinkingly from its setting of pale gold. 'Eh! they'm like drops of blood! said Hazel. 'Like when fayther starts a-killing the pig. He's a hard un, is fayther, hard as b'rytes. I'm much obleeged to you, Mr. Reddin, but I dunna want 'em. I canna'd abear the sight of blood. 'Little fool! said Reddin. 'They're worth pounds.
'What is it, my dear? Mrs. Marston looked over her spectacles, and her eyes were like half moons peering over full moons. 'That there picture! They'm hurting Him so cruel. And Him fast and all. 'Oh! said Mrs. Marston wonderingly, 'that's nothing to get vexed about. Why, don't you know that's Jesus Christ dying for us? 'Not for me! flashed Hazel. 'My dear! 'No, what for should He?
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