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Updated: June 20, 2025
So, as for our declaration of independence, I guess you needn't twitt me with our slave-sales, for we deal only in blacks; but Bluenose approbates no distinction in colours, and when reduced to poverty, is reduced to slavery, and is sold a White Nigger." No. Fire in the Dairy.
"Well, said Twitt, slowly "I aint so blind but I can see through a wall when there's a chink in it. An' when I gets my 'Daily' down from Lunnun, an' sees harf a page given up to a kind o' poster about Pills, an' another harf a page praisin' up somethin' about Tonics, I often sez to myself: 'Look 'ere, Twitt! What are ye payin' yer pennies out for? For a Patent Pill or for News?
So when the earth's set down on 'is grave a bit, an' the daisies is a-growin' on the grass, I'll mebbe 'ave got an idea wot'll please ye. 'E aint left any mossel o' paper writ out like, with wot 'e'd like put on 'im, I s'pose?" Mary felt the colour rush to her face. "N no! Not that I know of, Mr. Twitt," she said.
One of his most celebrated couplets was the following: "This Life while I lived it, was Painful and seldom Victorious, I trust in the Lord that the next will be Pleasant and Glorious!" Everybody said that no one but Abel Twitt could have thought of such grand words and good rhymes.
Thanks be to the Lord no motors can ever come into Weircombe, they tears round an' round by another road, an' we neither sees, 'ears, nor smells 'em, for which I often sez to my wife 'O be joyful in the Lord all ye lands; serve the Lord with gladness an' come before His presence with a song! An' she ups an' sez 'Don't be blaspheemous, Twitt, I'll tell parson' an' I sez 'Tell 'im, old 'ooman, if ye likes! An' when she tells 'im, 'e smiles nice an' kind, an' sez 'It's quite lawful, Mrs.
"'Twas out there," and Twitt pointed with one hand to the shining expanse of the ocean "The gypsies put 'im an' is Kiddie in a basket coffin which they made theirselves, an' covered it all over wi' garlands o' flowers an' green boughs, an' then fastened four great lumps o' lead to the four corners, an' rowed it out in a boat to about four or five miles from the shore, right near to the place where the moon at full 'makes a hole in the middle o' the sea, as the children sez, and there they dropped it into the water.
An' it's no wonder the inn where poor Tom did his bad deed and died his bad death, is shut up for good, an' the people as kept it gone away no one couldn't stay there arter that. Ay, ay!" and Twitt sighed profoundly "Poor wild ne'er-do-weel Tom! He lies deep down enough now with the waves flowin' over 'im an' 'is little 'Kiddie' clasped tight in 'is arms.
Twitt were constant visitors, and many were the would-be jocose remarks of the old stonemason on David's temporary truancy. "Wanted more work, did ye?" And thrusting his hands deep in the pockets of his corduroys, Twitt looked at him with a whimsical complacency. "Well, why didn't ye come down to the stoneyard an' learn 'ow to cut a hepitaph?
Twitt an' me, we felt as if we could 'a served the Lord faithful to the end of the world! An' we 'ardly ever feels like that in Church. In Church they reads the words so sing-songy like, that, bein' tired, we goes to sleep wi' the soothin' drawl. But Mr.
A hand, evidently accustomed to the outside management of the latch, lifted it, and Mr. Twitt entered, his rubicund face one broad smile. "'Afternoon, David! 'Afternoon, Mister! Wheer's Mis' Deane?" "She's resting a bit in her room," replied Helmsley. "Ah, well! You can tell 'er the news when she comes in. Mr. Arbroath's away for 'is life wi' old Nick in full chase arter 'im!
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