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Updated: June 8, 2025
"Why, yer know yer did," growled Bob; "or leastways the whisky in yer did it. I've often thought you'd do for mother, or one of us; but I never thought yer'd lift yer hand agin a poor little 'un like that." Coomber groaned, but made no reply. "Hold your tongue, Bob," commanded his mother; for she could see that her husband was sorry enough now for what he had done.
Barnes, quietly, "I understand my duties, and I see that you understand yours. As you say, doctors must be obeyed, and I already see that you won't make me or yourself any trouble. Good-night, Hobart, I'm in charge now." "Good-night, Doctor. Mr. Jackson, I'm sure you will carry out Dr. Barnes' wishes implicitly." "Yer'd better, Jackson," said Nichol, giving him a wink.
"Yes, but where did you come from now?" "From the foort beyant, sur." "Well, Patsey, what can you do?" "Phat can I do, is it? Faix, yer honor, it's phat I can't do yer'd better be axin'! There's nothin' in my loine that I don't understand parfectly, sur." "Have you a recommendation?" "What's that, sur?" "Any paper recommending you." "Och, it's me characther, is it, yeze afther axin' fur?
Lord! I hed ter poke him out; he wus thet skeered he cudn't stand." "Wal, I reckon yer'd a bin too," the boy stuttered angrily. "I ain't never seed no Injuns afore." "An' don't wanter ever see no more, I reckon. Hell! I don't hanker after eny myself. Howsumever, it's whut he seed an' heerd, Cap, thet sounds mighty queer ter me.
He went to an adjoining room and called Sam, the contractor's man. He took in the situation at a glance. "Wa'al, Foster," said he, "kind o' 'close call' for yer, warn't it? Guess yer'd better be gittin' up an' gittin' pretty lively. The train boys will take yer through an' yer kin come back when this racket's worked out." Sinclair glanced at his watch, then he walked to the window and looked out.
"Look at that, boys!" cried the captain, with tragic emphasis, pointing to the door, which had been forced clear off its rusty hinges. "Just busted open like yer'd taken the crust off'n a pie! Ah, if I could lay my hands on the fellers that done this, I'd run 'em tip ter the yardarm afore a foc'sle hand could say 'Hard tack'!" "Why, we think that " began Tubby, when Rob checked him.
But, you chil'en, put on yer bunnits, an' run an' play in de yard tell I fixes dis chis' uv cloes; an' you little niggers, go wid 'em, an' tuck cyar uv 'em; an' ef dem chil'en git hut, yer'll be sorry fur it, mun; so yer'd better keep em off'n seesaws an' all sich ez dat."
"And throw a poor girl out of work to step into her shoes." "Nuthin' of the sort, as I told yer. She's been threatenin' fer months to git married, but it 'urts 'er to give up a good billet an' live on three pounds a week. Yer'd do the bloke a kindness, if yer made me give 'er the sack." "It's no use. My mother wouldn't listen to it. For years she's half starved herself to keep me out of a shop.
"She's pretty an' clean, an' she won't drink a drop o' nothin'. If she was treated kind she'd be cheerfler. She's got a round fice an' light 'air an' eyes. 'Er 'air's curly. P'raps yer'd like 'er." "Take me to see her." "She'd look better to-morrow," cautiously, "when the swellin's gone down round 'er eye." Dart started and it was because he had for the last five minutes forgotten something.
"I was wonderin' 'ow yer'd look on the end of a rope," replied Chook, quietly. "Me on the end of a rope?" cried Partridge in amazement. "Yes. They said yous 'ud stiffen me if I cum in, an' 'ere I am." "An' yet you 'ad the cheek?" "Yes," said Chook; "I niver take no notice o' wot women say."
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