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Updated: June 29, 2025
"A stranger might say as you wasn' the best o' friends." "Nothin'," answered Sam after a slight pause. "Bit of a argymint that's all." "Wot about?" "'Tisn worth mentionin'." Sam glanced at the other two. "The theayter 'ere's offered Mr. and Mrs. Mortimer an engagement." "Well?" "We was discussin' whether they ought to take it." "W'y not?" "Well, you see Glasson bein' about "
"'Tisn' a ''oo, 'tis an 'it': bein' an expression I got off an Extension Lecturer they had down to Bodmin, one time. I'd a great hankerin', in those days, to measure six foot two in my socks afore I finished growin', and I signed on for his lectures in that hope.
He looked down at the almost unrecognizable twelve inches which we call "Rees's wound," and considered how this red inch had paled and the lips of that incision were drawing together. "'Tisn' no more me arm," he said at length, "than...." he paused for a simile. "'Tisn' me arm, it's me wound," he finally explained.
"I'm romantic perhaps," confessed Mrs Bosenna; "but I can never think of any ship's captain as being quite an ordinary man. The dangers he must go through and the foreign countries he visits and up night after night in all weathers, staring into the darkness in an oilskin suit!" "'Tisn' the sort o' man I should ever choose for a husband, if I wanted one," maintained Dinah.
And always Jim met it with the same answer: "'Tisn' what we doon; 'tis what 'e doon. An' annyhow it had to bae." Every week Rowcliffe came to see her and every week Jim said to him: "She's at it still and I caan't move 'er." And every week Rowcliffe said: "Wait. She'll be better before long." And Jim waited. He waited till one afternoon in February, when they were again in the stable together.
Arthur Miles did not answer. "Oh, I know what you're thinkin'!" she broke out. "But 'tisn' everyone can look down on folks bein' born with your advantages!" She pulled herself up sharply, glancing at the back of the boy's head: for he had turned his face aside. "No I didn' mean that. An' an' the way you stood up fer me bein' honest was jus' splendid after what you'd said about tellin' lies, too."
He did not appear to feel their sting, although, while he spoke, I saw the bark of his hand whiten slowly with blisters "well, then, you can't go for to argue with me that the A'mighty would go for to strike the chap that repented by means o' the chap that didn'. Tisn' reasonable nor religious to think such a thing is it now?"
"There's a mad devil o' a man behind, ridin' down all he comes across. A's blazin' drunk, I reckon but 'tisn' that 'tis the horrible voice that goes wi' en Hark! Lord protect us, he's turn'd into the lane!" Sure enough, the clatter of a second horse was coming down upon us, out of the night and with it the most ghastly sounds that ever creamed a man's flesh.
The words "Naval Reservist" underlined gave him a tremor. But it was too late to draw back. He broke open the envelope, drew forth the letter, unfolded it, and ran his eye hurriedly overleaf, seeking the signature. "Why, 'tisn' signed!" "Not signed?" echoed Lippity-Libby. "That's as much as to say 'nonymous." Suddenly he slapped his thigh. "There now! O' course why, what a forgetful head is mine!
But in the long evenings since my poor wife's death I often find time to think of you, Mr Nanjivell; bein' both of us lame of the right leg as it happens. Hows'ever 'tisn' no news o' riches for 'ee to-day, sorry as I be to say it: for the postmark's 'Polpier." He tendered the letter. Nicky-Nan stretched out a hand, but drew it back on a sudden suspicion. "No," he said. "You may take an' keep it.
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