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After a pause, she added 'Does he write with his own hand? 'You mun see for yorsel'. He held it out to her. She looked at it mystified. 'But it's not opened! 'I hadna juist me spectacles, said Father Time, cautiously. 'Mebbee yo'll read it to me. 'But it's to his mother! cried Nelly. 'I can't open your wife's letter! 'You needn't trooble aboot that. You read it, Mum.

'There, yo'll not mind if it is Bella, because yo' see my mother is alive to be pleased by its being named after her, and Hester may be godmother, and I'll ha' t' dove-coloured silk as yo' gave me afore we were married made up into a cloak for it to go to church in. 'I got it for thee, said Philip, a little disappointed. 'It'll be too good for the baby.

His own guilty conscience told him that what The Kid said was true. His gimlet eyes grew big with fear. There was a long silence. "If if I sign, yo'll let me go?" he quavered. The Texan's face grew hard and stern. "No," he said. "I haven't any right to do that. Justice demands that yo' face the ones yo' have wronged. And justice has always been my guidin' stah.

Nicholas understood all her signs for different articles with the quickness of love, and even the round-eyed sister moved with laborious gentleness at Margaret's 'hush! Presently the spasm that foreshadowed death had passed away, and Bessy roused herself and said, 'I'll go to bed, it's best place; but, catching at Margaret's gown, 'yo'll come again, I know yo' will but just say it!

I daresay ye pit it there; aiblins writ it. Ye'll explain it." The little man spoke in the same small, even voice, and his eyes never moved off his son's face. "I've heard naethin'.... I'd like the truth, David, if ye can tell it." The boy smiled a forced, unnatural smile, looking from his father to the paper in his hand. "Yo' shall have it, but yo'll not like it.

Ne'er meets a man bout an oath or a curse; I should think he were going to die if he spoke me civil; but arter all, his bark's waur than his bite, and yo' may tell him one o' his turn-outs said so, if yo' like. Eh! but yo'll have a lot of prize mill-owners at Thornton's!

"To obey his frien' he foregoes the pleasure o' disobeyin' his father," he muttered. "Noble!" Then he turned homeward, and the boy followed in his footsteps. James Moore and the gray dog stood looking after them. "I know yo'll not pay off yer spite agin me on the lad's head, M'Adam," he called, almost appealingly.

And Aunt Hannah in her enraged scorn even undertook a grotesque and mincing imitation of the peacocking aforesaid. 'Let goo! muttered Louie between her shut teeth, and with a wild strength she at last flung off her aunt and sprang for the door. But Hannah was too quick for her and put her back against it. 'No yo'll not goo till your ooncle there's gien yo a word.

Mammy was crooning to the Indian baby before the fire. It was an old darky lullaby, and the faithful servant had sung it to her when she was a child. It brought back memories of her youthful days, which now seemed so long ago and like a dream. "Doan stan' dere, chile," Mammy at length reminded. "Yo'll get yo' deff a col'." Jean turned, picked up a shawl and threw it over her head.

As, however, his body lost strength, his spirit seemed to gain it; the words of the psalmist were ever on his lips, "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me, Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me." "Listen," he said one day, "when I can't spaike to tell yo' haa I feel, I'll lift my hand, and yo'll knaw all's weal."