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Updated: June 20, 2025
She used to send them all away to a woman in Brittany before. The French are wonderful washers, we're not a patch on them over here. So you saw me ironing?" "I could just catch a glimpse of you at work through the door," he answered "and I heard you talking as well " "To Mrs. Twitt? Ah, I thought you did!" And she laughed. "Well, I wish you could have seen her, as well as heard her!
A stranger in the village bringin' no good to the 'and as feeds'im!" Mary's laughter rang out now like a little peal of bells. "Dear Mrs. Twitt!" she said "I know how good and kind you are but you mustn't have any of your presentiments about me! I'm sure the poor sea-gull meant no harm! And I'm sure that poor old David won't ever hurt me " Here she suddenly gave an exclamation "Why, I forgot!
"Out of a hurn?" demanded Twitt, persistently "If our Lord's body 'ad bin burnt an' put in a hurn, an' the hurn 'ad bin took into the 'ouse o' Pontis Pilate, an' sealed, an' kept till now? Eh? What d'ye say to that? I tell ye, David, there wouldn't a bin no savin' grace o' Christ'anity at all! An' that's why I sez cremation is unchristin, it's blaspheemous an' 'eethen.
So, as for our declaration of independence, I guess you need'nt twitt me with our slave-sales, for we deal only in blacks; but Blue Nose 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.
"I'm so sorry!" said Mary, sweetly "But as long as the spider doesn't bring you any ill-luck, Mrs. Twitt, I don't mind for myself I don't, really!" Mrs. Twitt emitted an odd sound, much like the grunt of a small and discontented pig. "It's a reckless foot as don't mind precipeges," she remarked, solemnly "'Owsomever, I've given ye fair warnin'. An' 'ow's yer father's friend?"
But I know the head and front of the offending! I know the Chief of all the Anarchists!" "Lord bless us!" exclaimed Mrs. Twitt, who happened to be standing by. "Ye don't say so! Wot's' 'ee like?" "He's all shapes and sizes all colours too!" laughed Angus. "He's simply the Irresponsible Journalist!" "As you were once!" suggested Helmsley, with a smile.
"I b'leeve that," rejoined Twitt; "I b'leeve it true. And though I know Mis' Deane is that straight an' 'onest, she'd see ye properly mementoed an' paid for, I wouldn't take a penny from 'er not on account of a kindly old gaffer like yerself. I'd do it all friendly." "Of course you would!" and Helmsley shook his hand heartily; "And of course you will!"
I considers as 'e wor a very fine sort gentle as a lamb, an' grateful for all wot was done for 'im, an' I wants to be as friendly to 'im in 'is death as I wos in 'is life ye understand?" "Yes I know I quite understand," said Mary. "But there's plenty of time " "Yes, there's plenty of time!" agreed Twitt.
Mary tried to look serious, but Helmsley was listening to the conversation, and she caught the mirthful glance of his eyes. So she laughed, and taking Mrs. Twitt by the shoulders, kissed her heartily on both cheeks. "You're a dear!" she said "And I'll believe in the magpie if you want me to! But all the same, I don't think any mischief is coming for your son or for you.
He laughed, but as she raised her eyes questioningly to his face, grew serious. "Yes, my Mary! You'll have to stay by your own sweet lonesome! Otherwise all the dear, kind, meddlesome old women in the village will talk! Mrs. Twitt will lead the chorus, with the best intentions, unless and this is a dreadful alternative! you can persuade her to come up and play propriety!"
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