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It was a an accident that might have happened to anybody; and, oh, Grandma dear, wasn't it a narrow squeak for Stella!" "Howly saints!" ejaculated Eliza; "to think of them dear childer bein' shtruck be thunder, an' mighty near killed! Och, but ye're the chrazy wans! Whyever did ye go to yer tree-top shanty in such a shtorm? Bad luck to the botherin' little house!"
"'Whyever ain't I married? says you." The Old Cattleman repeated the question after me as he settled himself for one of our many "pow-wows," as he described them. "Looks like you've dealt me that conundrum before. Why ain't I wedded? The answer to that, son, is a long shot an' a limb in the way.
Then whyever doesn't she come to this splendid school? 'Oh, we 'll get her yet, Ivor. 'We must, said Ivor. 'I can see by her face that she 'll be no end of fun. 'Fun! replied Jasmine. 'She 's the very life of The Garden. 'The Garden? What do you mean by The Garden? 'That's where we happen to live, replied Jasmine. 'You are not a weekly pupil, are you, Ivor? 'No, alas! I 'm not.
They're that for'ard, that headlong to get outer the present an' into the footure, they jest can't wait for things to have a chance to happen. "'Whyever do you pull in your kyards that a-way? I says to Toothpick, reprovin' of him. 'Why can't you let 'em lay till the hand's dealt?
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