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Updated: June 23, 2025
In the times of which we are writing, the Bridge furnished 'object lessons' in English history for its children namely, the livid and decaying heads of renowned men impaled upon iron spikes atop of its gateways. But we digress. Hendon's lodgings were in the little inn on the Bridge. As he neared the door with his small friend, a rough voice said "So, thou'rt come at last!
"What proofs?" "Proof that ye are freemen." Ah I remembered! I came to myself; I said nothing. But the king stormed out: "Thou'rt insane, man. It were better, and more in reason, that this thief and scoundrel here prove that we are not freemen." You see, he knew his own laws just as other people so often know the laws; by words, not by effects.
"I am so glad I am not lame." "Fancy-full as ever," said his father; "come, come! Thou'rt weak yet from the fever. Be a man. Remember of what blood thou art. And thy mother she also hath a gift for thee from thy grandfather. Hast thou forgotten that? It hangs to the book learning. A reward and thou hast earned it." "I've forgotten that, too," said Dickie. "You aren't vexed because I forget?
I know weel that if I was a lyin parisht i' th' road, yo'd feel it right to pass me by, as a forrenner and stranger. What I ha getn, I mun mak th' best on. 'Stephen Blackpool, said the chairman, rising, 'think on 't agen. Think on 't once agen, lad, afore thou'rt shunned by aw owd friends. There was an universal murmur to the same effect, though no man articulated a word.
"Embrace me, Hugh," he cried, "and say thou'rt glad I am come again! and call our father, for home is not home till I shall touch his hand, and see his face, and hear his voice once more!"
If thou'd got another roonaway boy, I'd do it agean. If thou'd got twonty roonaway boys, I'd do it twonty times ower, and twonty more to thot; and I tell thee more, said John, 'noo my blood is oop, that thou'rt an old ra'ascal; and that it's weel for thou, thou be'est an old 'un, or I'd ha' poonded thee to flour when thou told an honest mun hoo thou'd licked that poor chap in t' coorch.
"Another poond o' candles, and it was only last Monday as you bought the last nigh two candles a night. Thou wilt kill thyself sitting up reading o' nights, and thy eyes will sink i' thy head, and thou'lt be as blind as a bat afore thou'rt forty."
'Kinraid, if ta doesn't come and see me afore thou'rt many days ouder, thee and me'll have words. Come, Sylvie, what art ta about, keepin' me here? Here's Mistress Corney mixin' me another jorum. Well, this time a'll give "T' married happy, and t' single wed!"
In the times of which we are writing, the Bridge furnished 'object lessons' in English history for its children namely, the livid and decaying heads of renowned men impaled upon iron spikes atop of its gateways. But we digress. Hendon's lodgings were in the little inn on the Bridge. As he neared the door with his small friend, a rough voice said "So, thou'rt come at last!
Open the gate, I say, or I'll make you. 'Do let her alone, dear, I entreated, fearing a mutual assault. 'She has been ordered, may be, not to open it. Is it so, my good girl? 'Well, thou'rt not the biggest fool o' the two, she observed, commendatively, 'thou'st hit it, lass. 'And who ordered you? exclaimed Milly. 'Fayther. 'Old Pegtop.
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