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"That's 'ow coppers get on and buy pianners," said the incensed Mr. Grummit, "sneaking other people's property. I didn't tell you to throw good 'uns over, did I? Wot d'ye mean by it?" Mrs. Grummit made no reply, but watched with bated breath the triumphal entrance of the piano. The carman set it tenderly on the narrow footpath, while P. C. Evans, stooping low, examined it at all points, and Mrs.
Adams, who had caught his breath, let it escape in a long sigh of relief. "Like Symonds's," he murmured. "Not a bit like Symonds's," his friend corrected snappishly. "He's talkin' o' dead uns ghosts that is, if I take your meanin', sir?" Mr. Coyne nodded. "That's it. Ghosts." "Get out with you!" said Mr. Adams, incredulous.
Bennett had cleared a piece around the house, scratched him a few hills of corn betwixt the stumps the year before, and this spring was tryin' to tear out the roots and small stumps with a pair o' steers and a tam-harrer. "So, from the door of the cabin he'd built, Sally could see the virgin forest all about her, while she was a-movin' about the room getting dinner for the young 'uns.
"I've got th' garden tools. There's a little spade an' rake an' a fork an' hoe. Eh! they are good 'uns. There's a trowel, too. An' th' woman in th' shop threw in a packet o' white poppy an' one o' blue larkspur when I bought th' other seeds." "Will you show the seeds to me?" Mary said. She wished she could talk as he did. His speech was so quick and easy.
"Who ever heerd tell o' sich doin's! I'd jus' like ter know who done gib yo' commission ter do this, Miss P'tricia! An' whatever is yo' goin' do wid five strange young uns?" "Make them happy and comfortable, I hope," Patricia laughed. "There they are now. Start a fire in my room, please, Sarah, and make up a bed on my lounge.
Choose a-twixt the promise ye made ter that man or the word ye deny ter me! An' when I'm gone I'm gone!" She stood seemingly irresolute. "It's nuthin' ter me," he protested once more. "I kin keep it an' gyard it ez well ez you uns. But I won't be shet out, an' doubted, an' denied, like ez ef I wan't fitten ter be trested with nuthin'!"
"They ain't ever anythin' as hard on the young uns as on the old uns," asserted Captain Phippeny, "because well, because they're young, I guess. That's Chivy's yacht that came in just at sundown, ain't it?" "Yare. They say she's seen dirty weather since she was here last." "Has? Well, you can't stay in harbor allers, and git your livin' at the same time.
The puppet-show was shut up sooner than he expected; but the jester had kept his most wonderful mot for the last. "Dieu me pardonnera," he said. "C'est son métier." "Der Bahn, der kühnen, folgen wir, Die uns geführt Lassalle." Such is the Marseillaise the Social Democrats of Germany sing, as they troop out when the police break up their meetings.
Markham!" "I say, what you sending your young uns down to the store after things, and charging them to me for? Mighty creditable that, Tom Gildersleeve!" "Getting things and charging them to you!" Gildersleeve stopped his horse. "What do you mean, Markham?" "You better go down and ask Hampshire. If you don't, you may get it explained in a way you won't fancy!"
"Now I'd jist like ter know," she said savagely, "who you uns be, a breakin' into a house, and a killin' a dorg, an' a eatin' up everything we uns got without so much as a sayin' 'by yer leave' er nuthin'. I reckon as how you uns don't take this yere cabin fer no tavern?"
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