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"Put out that dog, Abner Briggs!" The master spoke as the captain speaks to the helmsman, when there are rocks foaming at the lips, right under his lee. Abner Briggs answered as the helmsman answers, when he knows he has a mutinous crew round him that mean to run the ship on the reef, and is one of the mutineers himself. "Put him aout y'rself, 'f ye a'n't afeard on him!"

Thinking of these men, and thinking their failure due to themselves alone, Hartley could not endure the idea of his friend adding one more to the list of failures. He sprang up at last. "Say, Bert, you might just as well hang y'rself, and done with it! Why, it's suicide! I can't allow it. I started in at college bravely, and failed because I'd let it go too long.

"Sit ye down a wink. Ye're always on the move like a flibberty-bidget." She struggled free of his embrace, her face clouded with alarm and anger. "Don't be a fool," she said, harshly. He released her, saying, humbly: "Don't be angry, darlin', 'tis foolish of me, an ould crippled wolf, to be thinking of matin' with a fawn like y'rself. I don't blame ye. Go your ways."

It's perfectly ridiculous the way you yell and talk t' y'rself out there on the chips. You beat the hens, I declare if you don't." Lime put on his hat and walked up to the window, and, resting his great bare arms on the sill, and his chin on his arms, said: "Merry, I'm goin' to tackle 'Dad' this afternoon. He'll be sittin' up the new seeder, and I'm goin' t' climb right on the back of his neck.

"'Naow, Dutchman, said Hiram, 'if you don't want to be planted in that are post-hole, y'd better take y'rself out o' this here piece of private property. "Dangerous passin," as the sign-posts say, abaout these times.

"Now, Mackay," said Captain Gillespie, blowing like a grampus after his exertions, "take y'r choice, but I think that the two best shots in the ship ought to have the Martini rifles; and if I were picking out the picked marksmen he! he! that's a joke, `picking' and `picked, didn't intend it though I'd have chosen y'rself and the bosun!"

"Guess, mebbe, you're prejudiced some," suggested Carney, with an eye on his visitor. "Shaky's taken to book readin'," said Slum, gently. "Guess dime fiction gits a powerful holt on some folk." "Dime fiction y'rself," retorted Shaky, sullenly.

The old frontiersman didn't answer for a little. When he spoke, it was very soberly: "No, when it's that, you'll work for the stars spite o' y'rself! Why, A contrived the meetin' myself this vera afternoon; wha' d' y' think o' that for an old fool? A'll be goin' back empty handed, an' all m' own doin'!"

"Come along here 'z quick 'z y' ken," Abel answered, "'n' haalp me fix this fellah. Y' been hurt, y'rself, 'n' the' 's murder come pooty nigh happenin'." Mr. Bernard heard the answer, but presently stared about and asked again, "Who's hurt? What's happened?" "Y' 'r' hurt, y'rself, I tell ye," said Abel; "'n' the' 's been a murder, pooty nigh." Mr.

"Don't y' think ye better open that pack, an' get a drink for y'rself, my boy?" Wayland was pausing in the shadow of a sand butte, and the old man had ridden up. "Want it for yourself?" "Not a drop." "Better keep it for the horses, then; if we can keep them going to the next spring, they'll carry us out. Anything the matter with me that you ask that?" "Oh no; A thought A saw you wave y'r arms."