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"Sorjint?" he broke in mincingly "c'n I fall out an' tork t' me sister? garn, Reddy! wipe orf yer chin! . . . though if I did 'appen t' 'ave a sister she might s'y th' sime fing abaht me, now, as she might s'y abaht you to a lydy-fren' o' 'er's, p'raps. . . ." "Say what?" demanded George incautiously.

The people of this Society were so little known in New England at that period, that Angelina and her friend, in their peculiar dress, were objects of great curiosity where-ever they went. Catherine Beecher accompanied them back to New Tork, and saw them safely on their way to Philadelphia.

"Serve 'er right," rejoined Deborah, heartlessly. "What kin you expect fur good folk if wicked ones, as go strangulating people, don't git the Lord down on 'em. Oh, Mr. Beecot," Deborah broke down into noisy tears, "the 'orrors that my lovely one 'ave tole me. I tried to stop her, but she would tork, and was what you might call delirous-like. Sich murders and gory assassins as wos never 'eard of."

And he let Brudenell Hall once more, and took up his abode at a cheap watering-place on the continent, where he remained for years, passing his time in reading, fishing, boating, and other idle seaside pastimes, until he was startled from his repose by a letter from his mother a letter full of anguish, telling him that her younger daughter, Eleanor, had fled from home in company with a certain Captain Dugald, and that she had traced them to Liverpool, whence they had sailed for New Tork, and entreated him to follow and if possible save his sister.

"Tork about the streets of Lunnon, Master Lewis," he said. "I calls this country life deafenin'." Lewis had wanted to telegraph to Natalie, but Leighton had stopped him. "You've waited too long for that," he had said. "You have apparently neglected Natalie and Mrs. Leighton. When people think they've been neglected, never give them a chance to think up what they're going to say to you.

They showered us and the Italians with jokes and advice, and made our Greek so angry that at least once on each circuit he raised his fist and shook it at them in a rage. They came to look for this, and at each display greeted it with uproarious mirth. "Wot a circus!" cried one. "Tork about yer marine hippodromes, if this ain't one, I'd like to know!" affirmed another.

"I got a letter for you, missis," said Micky. "Sure it ain't for somebody else? Let's have a look at it." "No 'urry! Tork it over first that's my marxim! Look ye here. Miss Juliar, this is my way of putting of it. Here's three-halfpence, over the beer. Here's the corner of the letter, stickin' out of my porket. Now which'll you have, the letter or the three-halfpence? Make your ch'ice.

I tell yer that man 'ad no 'eart for men or 'orses. An' you tork ababt bein' reel reg'mental, Mac! . . . 'e wos a reg'mental old soor if yer like! . . . Fit to drop we wos wot wos left o' us, an' th' bloody sun goin' down an' all. But no! 'e give us no rest burial fatigue right away. Free big trenches we buried aour pore fellers in I can see 'em now. . . ."

Its points discussed, the soldier broke into a new topic with, "My next's going to be an aeroplane, so far as I can see. I've had enough of roads and ways." "They TORK," said Bert. "They talk and they do," said the soldier. "The thing's coming " "It keeps ON coming," said Bert; "I shall believe when I see it." "That won't be long," said the soldier.

"Jus' say your meanin', my pretty queen," said Mrs. Tawsey, as she stood at the sitting-room door, and watched Sylvia reading an ill-written letter. "It's twelve now, and I kin be back by five, arter a long, and enjiable tork with Matilder." "You certainly must go," replied Sylvia, handing back the letter. "I am sure your sister will be glad to see you, Debby."