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You've got no weather in factories, an' such-like. On the land 'tes a matter o' weather. On the land a man must be ready for anythin' at any time; you can't work it no other way. 'Tes along o' God's comin' into it; an' no use pullin' this way an' that. Union says to me: You mustn't work after hours. Hoh! I've 'ad to set up all night wi' ship an' cattle hundreds o' times, an' no extra for it.

'Tes certain sure there's lots would never go, ef 'twasn't so mortial hard on the land. 'Tisn't a bare livin', after that. An' they're put upon, right and left they're put upon. 'Tes only a man here and there that 'as something in 'im too strong. I widden never 'ave stayed in the country ef 'twasn't that I couldn't stand the town life.

'Tes like some breeds o' cattle you take an' put 'em out o' their own country, an' you 'ave to take an' put 'em back again. Only some breeds, though. Others they don' mind where they go. Well, I've seen the country pass in my time, as you might say; where you used to see three men you only see one now." "Are they ever going back onto the land?" "They tark about it. I read my newspaper reg'lar.

This was not all: being presented to Monsieur de Freytorens, professor of law, who loved music, and who gave concerts at his house, nothing would do but I must give him a proof of my talents, and accordingly I set about composing a piece for his concerts, as boldly as if I had really understood the science. Quel injustice! Quio, tu Clarice Trahiriot tes feux? &'c.

With a raised voice, and a graceful, bantering smile, the king concluded: "C'est a toi Cygne des Saxons, D'arracher ce secret a la nature avare; D'adoucir dans tes chants d'une langue barbare, Les durs et detestables sons'"

"Mais mais de grace! ca ne finira jamais jamais, s'il faut repondre a tes sottises, Marie. Recommencons." Mademoiselle, golden top-knot shining and shaking, blue eyes rolling between black lashes. "De ta tige detachee, Pauvre feuille dessechee" Detachee dessechee. They didn't rhyme. Their not rhyming irritated her distress.

"Thart of it ah! thart of it hundreds o' times; but some'ow cudden never bring mysel' to the scratch o' not seein' th' Beacon any more. I can just see it from 'ere, you know. But there's not so many like me, an' gettin' fewer every day." "Yes," murmured Felix, "that I believe." "'Tes a 'and-made piece o' goods the land! You has to be fond of it, same as of your missis and yer chillen.

I've a-'ad mine bad this ten year." Ashurst made the sound of sympathy which comes so readily from those who have an independent income, and the lame man smiled again. "Mustn't complain, though they mighty near 'ad it off." "Ho!" "Yeas; an' compared with what 'twas, 'tes almost so gude as nu." "They've put a bandage of splendid stuff on mine." "The maid she picks et.

She sat down and began the accompaniment of that most exquisitely tender song, "De ton coeur bannis les alarmes, Qu'un songe heureux seche les larmes Qui coulent encore de tes yeux." The words were hardly audible; but we were so moved by the marvellous purity of the pathetic voice that tears stood in our eyes. As for the singer, tears rolled down his face.

Then my promise to poor Ellinor; it was impossible for a man of honour to break a promise, even to an old woman: in short, when people are determined upon any action, they seldom fail to find arguments capable of convincing them that their resolution is reasonable. Mixed motives govern the conduct of half mankind; so I set out upon my journey to Ireland. "Es tu contente a la fleur de tes ans?