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Updated: June 4, 2025
I don't want to wownd your feelings, but there be certain men here and there that no woman of any niceness can stomach. I should have said he was one. I don't say so NOW, since you must ha' known better than I but that's what I SHOULD have said!" Sue jumped up and went out. Jude followed her, and found her in the outhouse, crying. "Don't cry, dear!" said Jude in distress.
The young woman was Anne Garland, the sweet heroine of the story; and Anne didn't want to see the silver plate, the thought of which made her almost faint. Nor could she be tempted by being told that one couldn't see such a 'wownd' every day. Then Cripplestraw, earnest to please her, suggested that Tullidge rattle his arm, which Tullidge did, to Anne's great distress.
You may believe me, when I heerd her voice, as I had heerd at home so playful and see her humbled, as it might be in the dust our Saviour wrote in with his blessed hand I felt a wownd go to my 'art, in the midst of all its thankfulness. He drew his sleeve across his face, without any pretence of concealing why; and then cleared his voice. 'It warn't for long as I felt that; for she was found.
'I have heard that the way they morticed yer skull was a beautiful piece of workmanship. Perhaps the young woman would like to see the place? 'Tis a curious sight, Mis'ess Anne; you don't see such a wownd every day. 'No, thank you, said Anne hurriedly, dreading, as did all the young people of Overcombe, the spectacle of the corporal uncovered.
His words came like a drunkard's: he was slurring them, running them together, skipping hard consonants. "I'll never be a man no more, I won't," he added with a dry sob. The Parson gripped his hand. A look of beastly rage darted into the other's eyes. "Blast ye!" he screamed, and struck at the Parson's face with his elbow. "I'm one great wownd, you ." He spewed out a torrent of hideous names.
"And yet you must go for to wring my and!" He lifted his foot to stamp it. His wounds twitched at him. He lowered it gingerly and with a groan. "I ain't a man," he sobbed. "I'm one great wownd." "My poor chap," choked the Parson. The other turned, body, legs, neck, and head moving all of a piece, and shuffled into the cottage on his heels. The Parson followed.
Those nearest spoke to him; those less fortunate, on the outskirts of the little crowd, contented themselves with admiring comments. "He d' seem to have filled out, though he have been punished so terrible out yonder." "My dear, they did tell I as his poor leg was all one solid wownd. D'ye mind how Mrs. Baverstock did take on, pore 'ooman. And well she mid." "Well she mid, indeed. Ah!
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