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Updated: June 9, 2025
'E's a nice woon t' taalk o' marryin', whan 'is awn wife caan't live wi' 'im, nor 'is awn daughter, neither. And 'oo alse talled yo'? 'Twasn' Moother?" "Naw. It wasn' yore moother." "An' 'twasn' mae, Jim, and navver will bae." "'Twas Dr. Rawcliffe." "'E? 'E's anoother. 'Ooo's 'e married? Miss Gwanda? Nat' e!" "Yo' let t' doctor bae, Essy. 'E's right enoof.
"You didn't start to tell me about Mr. O'Halloran." "No. He wasn' your sort at all; and besides, he's dead. But about Black Sultan Miss Montagu used to rest 'im, 'alf-way in his turn, while the clown they called Bimbo but his real name was Ernest Stanley as't a riddle about a policeman and a red 'errin' in a newspaper.
"But why didn't Miss Le Fay write to us?" asked Miss Nellie. "If she was in difficulties we " "Naw, Florette wasn' that kind; nev' put up any hard-luck story y' un'erstan'. But she'd bin outa work, sick. An' w'en she come back it looked like her ac' was a frost. I run up on her in K.C., an' " "What is K.C.?" "Why, Kansas City! We was on the bill there two weeks ago.
Nicky-Nan advanced with a fine air of nonchalance. "Lookin' at the sky?" said he. "Wind's back in the nor'-west again. Which, for settled weather, I'd rather it took off-shore a bit later in the afternoon. It'll last though, for all that, I shoudn' wonder." Policeman Rat-it-all withdrew his gaze from the firmament. "I wasn' thinkin' of the wind," said he.
"If it comes to that, so've I: at Symonds's." "Mine was at Admiralty House," said the driver. "I wasn' dancin'." "What about the horse?" "The horse? the ho Oh, I take your meanin'! The horse is all right: he's a fresh one. Poor I may be," he announced inconsecutively, "but I wouldn' live the life of one of them there women of fashion, not for a million of money." He ruminated for a moment.
Before Cai had well recovered from this, 'Bias went on, "And if so, I'd have answered you that I didn' intend to be any such fool." "I I'm afraid," owned Cai, "my thought wasn' anything like so unselfish. It concerned you and me, rather." "Thinkin' of me, was you?" 'Bias stuffed down the tobacco in his pipe with his forefinger.
'Yo' didn't clap yo' han's at dat goose on de table! er, he! he! he!" And so Uncle Rufus finished the story of the Christmas goose. Ruth started the younger ones to bed immediately; but Tess called down from the stair: "Uncle Rufus! He didn't make her go see the field overseer, did he?" "Sho'ly not, chile. Dat wasn' Cunnel Mark Colby's way. My ol' mammy knowed wot would han'le him.
I wasn' so mad but, when I heard 'ee, there was time to glimpse mother Climoe's face. Oh yes! I know what you'll be sayin'. 'Talk, is it? you'll be sayin', just like my Sam: an' 'Let them talk. What's talk? an' talk, all the time, two-thirds of every decent woman's life!" "I never heard such dratted nonsense in all my born days." "That's because you was never married.
"I wasn' astin' you. I jes' sayin' sump'm' kind o' to myse'f like." The completed cage, with Gipsy behind the bars, framed a spectacle sufficiently thrilling and panther-like. Gipsy raved, "spat", struck virulently at taunting fingers, turned on his wailing siren for minutes at a time, and he gave his imitation of a dromedary almost continuously.
She had much ado to keep pace with him. By and by she halted by a clump of willows and seated herself, announcing hypocritically that she was tired. He heard, and came back contritely. "I forgot," he said. "What has become of your crutch?" "I left it be'ind yesterday, in the boat. There wasn' no time to go back for it." "I am very sorry." Tilda's conscience smote her.
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