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Updated: May 31, 2025
What happens north of Teesmouth is none of our business; and we should have the laugh of the old Scotchman there, if they pay him a visit, as I hope they may; for he cuts many jokes at our expense. But, by the Lord Harry, there shall be no run between the Tees and Yare, this side of Christmas. If there is, we may call ourselves three old women.
We were stopping down at Yarmouth, and we decided we would go for a trip up the Yare. We hired a sailing boat at the yard by the bridge, and started off. "It's rather a rough day," said the man to us, as we put off: "better take in a reef and luff sharp when you get round the bend."
Hood scratched the side of his nose in a manner politely doubtful. "Sure thing, your Honour," he answered at last. "Sure the conditions was unusual. That feller has some juice and no mistake." "Juice?" inquired Von Koenitz. "Yare current. Whines like a steel top. Fifty kilowatts sure, and maybe more! And a twelve-thousand-metre wave." "I do not fully understand," interjected Rostoloff.
It was short but succinct: "We have it on indisputable authority that the engagement of one of Gotham's most lovely daughters, the beautiful Miss Grace Carter, to lord Yare Ellerslie, of ellesmere, Surrey, one of Britain's most eligible scions, will be formally announced on the return of his lordship's yacht from the Mediterranean, where he is at present cruising in company with his fiancée, her mother, and a party of mutual friends.
The tent was silent except for the fast patter of the rain and Bill Grey's coughing. "That sergeant gives me a pain in the neck," muttered Bill Grey peevishly, when his coughing had stopped, wriggling about under the blankets. After a while Fuselli said in a very low voice, so that no one but his friend should hear: "Say, Bill, ain't it different from what we thought it was going to be?" "Yare."
"Yare! yare!" screamed Goodwin Hawtayne, flinging himself upon the long pole which served as a tiller. "Cut the halliard! Haul her over! Lay her two courses to the wind!" Over swung the great boom, and the cog trembled and quivered within five spear-lengths of the breakers. "She can scarce draw clear," cried Hawtayne, with his eyes from the sail to the seething line of foam.
"Stephen, then," holding out his hand, "sence old times dawn't shame yoh, Stephen. That's hearty, now. It's only a wured I want, but it's immediate. Concernin' Joe Yare, Lois's father, yoh know? He's back." "Back? I saw him to-day, following me in the mill. His hair is gray? I think it was he." "No doubt. Yes, he's aged fast, down in the lock-up; goin' fast to the end. Feeble, pore-like.
There is every reason to believe that ages back the mouth of the Yare was an estuary or arm of the sea, and extended with considerable magnitude for many miles up the country.
"'Cross ter dat point yonder see, whar de lone tree stan's; we done 'round dat 'bout tree hunder' yards out, an' then go straight 'way north." "You use no chart?" He burst into a guffaw, as though the question was a rare joke. "No, sah; I nebber done saw one." "But surely you must steer by compass?" "Dar is a little one somewhar on board, and Ah done ain't seed it fer mor 'n a yare, Ah reckon.
'Reft me thereof, ay, and before my door. Ah! dolorous day and drear! Ah! woe is me! Would God I were no more! My purchase was so dear! Ah! why that day did I to watch give o'er? For him my cherished fere With marjoram I bordered it about. With marjoram I bordered it about In May-time fresh and fair, And watered it thrice ere each week was out, And marked it grow full yare: But now 'tis stolen.
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