Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: May 11, 2025
Good den!" "Good den, Bartle. May the Lord give thee good ending!" Bartle stood looking from the wicket until the miller had turned the corner. "Yon's a good man, I do believe," said he to himself. "I marvel what they burn such men for! They're never found lying or cheating or murdering. Why couldn't folks let 'em alone? We shouldn't want to hurt 'em, if the priests would let us alone.
We were all going to smash, but you pulled us out." Meantime in the tent Duncan Ross was discoursing to his friends. "Man, Mack! Yon's a mighty throw! Do you know it iss within five feet of my own record and within ten of Big Rory's? Then," he said solemnly, "you are in the world's first class to-day, my boy, and you are just beginning." "I have just quit!" said Mack. "Whist, lad!
Noo yon's a tarrible descreepancy, ye ken, so ah says to masel, ah'll be up sides wi' ye, ma lad. Naebody's got the better o' Jinit Johnstone yet, an' naebody's gaun tae; an' ah thocht Maister Coulson could jist tell me if the lads hae ony hand on the ferm lawyer bodies kens a' aboot thae things an' whit a wife's portion is, gin he should slip awa. An' ax him tae, whit ma rights 'll be.
I can thole a fair and square stan up fecht, but yon's a coward trick." "Ye'd say so," said Private McIntyre, Shenstone's comrade, "gin ye saw the hale place reeking like a shawmbles, an' the puir' wretches lying stark and scaring like slaughtered sheep. I doubt na it was a gran' blunder as weel as a gran' crime. Forbye killing some o' oor ain folk it will breed bad bluid through the hale war.
Why, mon, yon's the place whaur ye get a packet o' fags, a bar o' chocolate, a soft drink and salvation for twenty-five cents." Yes; we get all that in the Y.M.C.A. huts where the padre toils and the layman sweats day and night for the well-being of the soldier men. In some of the huts it is actually possible to get a bath. It is always possible to get dry.
"One by one the sea raxed away our three boats, an' the davits were crumpled like ram's horns. "'Yon's bad, said Bell, at the last. 'Ye canna pass a hawser wi'oot a boat. Bell was a vara judeecious man for an Aberdonian. "I'm not one that fashes himself for eventualities outside the engine-room, so I e'en slipped down betwixt waves to see how the Kite fared.
Archie was the owner of the concertina; but after a couple of stinging lectures from Jimmy he refused to play any more. He said: "Yon's an uncanny joker. I dinna ken what's wrang wi' him, but there's something verra wrang, verra wrang. It's nae manner of use asking me. I won't play." Our singers became mute because Jimmy was a dying man.
"Pretty night for our work, sir," came a cheery voice. "Might ha been made for us." "Where are we?" asked the boy. "Yon's Seaford Head, sir," as a great white dimness thrust out of the mist towards them. "We're layin along close inshore. See that glimmer forrad on the port-bow? Ah, it's gone again! That's the Seven Sisters. And between the last o them and Beachy Head lays Birling Gap.
Jem will be hung, and will go to his father and the little lads, where the Lord God wipes away all tears, and where the Lord Jesus speaks kindly to the little ones, who look about for the mothers they left upon earth. Eh, Job, yon's a blessed land, and I long to go to it, and yet I fret because Jem is hastening there.
At the same moment Tammas hallooed: "Theer he be! yon's yaller un coomin' oot o' drain! La, Sam'l!" And there, indeed, on the slope below them, a little angry, smutty-faced figure was crawling out of a rabbit-burrow.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking