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"Me, I not tell w'at I'm theenk," Luis retorted with a crooning note, and sat down facing her. "Ramon be mad me." Annie-Many-Ponies looked at him, her eyes soft and heavy with that languorous look which will quickest befuddle the sense of a man. "You tell; Ramon not hear," she hinted. "Ramon, he got plenty trobles for thinking about." She smiled again. "Ramon plenty long ways off.
A gentle Girle: why should not I pray, too? I had nere more need. When I am sett and gon, What understanding can they stick up then To fill the place I bore? None, not a man: To traffick with Great Princes? none: to deale With all the trobles of the war? None, certaine, no man: To bring in daylie treasure? I know no man; They cannot pick a man made up to serve 'em.
When we get us children We then doe give our freedoms up to fortune And loose that native courage we are borne to. To dye were nothing, simply to leave the light; No more then going to our beds and sleeping; But to leave all these dearnesses behind us, These figures of our selves that we call blessings, Is that which trobles. Can man beget a thing That shalbe deerer then himself unto him?
Better see if you can't get a wagon and team. We'll have to haul it home somehow." The brother of Tomaso started perceptibly. "A rancho? But that is not possible, señor!" "Oh, ain't it? I'll show yuh, then." "Oh, no! No importa. If it is a rancho in this countree, me, I'm find it without trobles for you."
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