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Updated: May 9, 2025
"We do also, unfortunately," replied my father, "for indeed I had rather have been for ever ignorant than have discovered so much depravity and ungratitude in one I valued so highly." "My dear father, you are mistaken; Justine is innocent." "If she is, God forbid that she should suffer as guilty. She is to be tried today, and I hope, I sincerely hope, that she will be acquitted."
Then that shall be, and before nightfall. Oh! one good turn desarves another in revenge, prompt payment while you live! McBRIDE'S Cottage. Honor. Then you made but a poor dinner, father, after being at the fair, and up early, and all! Take this bit from my hands, father dear. Honor. Ungratitude, father! then you don't see my heart.
King of Glory!" says I, "hear the pride and ungratitude of her, and he giving his last guineas but a minute ago to her childer, and she with the fine shawl on her he made her a present of but yesterday!" "Oh, troth, Judy, you're wrong now," says my shister, looking at the shawl. "And was not he wrong yesterday, then," says she, "to be telling me I was greatly altered, to affront me?"
So I said not a word more, but was only glad his honour had not the luck to hear all Judy had been saying of him, for I reckoned it would have gone nigh to break his heart; not that I was of opinion he cared for her as much as she and my shister fancied, but the ungratitude of the whole from Judy might not plase him; and he could never stand the notion of not being well spoken of or beloved like behind his back.
So I said not a word more, but was only glad his honour had not the luck to hear all Judy had been saying of him, for I reckoned it would have gone nigh to break his heart; not that I was of opinion he cared for her as much as she and my shister fancied, but the ungratitude of the whole from Judy might not plase him; and he could never stand the notion of not being well spoken of or beloved like behind his back.
King of Glory! says I, 'hear the pride and ungratitude of her, and he giving his last guineas but a minute ago to her childer, and she with the fine shawl on her he made her a present of but yesterday! 'Oh, troth, Judy, you're wrong now, says my shister, looking at the shawl. 'And was not he wrong yesterday, then, says she, 'to be telling me I was greatly altered, to affront me?
One day Hammy stacked himself in front of a window an' began to talk about the gloomy ghastliness of solitude, until me an' Locals couldn't stand it no longer, an' we heaved him out into a drift. Under ordinary circumstances he would have rolled his eyes, pulled his hair, an' ranted around about the base ungratitude of man; but this time he looked up to the sky an' hollered, "Come out here quick!
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