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Updated: June 11, 2025
And, lastly, shun violence as you would a temptation of the devil." "Yon's a man," said Angus Duncan, the member from the Amalgamated Machinists, when the committee was filing out through the hotel corridor. "Now you're shouting!" said Engineer Scott. "And you might say a man and a brother."
My father were very fond of Phoebe Johnson. He said she allus put him i' mind of our orchard on drying days; pink and white apple-blossom and clean clothes. And yon's her daughter? Where d'ye say t'young chap come from? He don't look like hereabouts." "He don't come from hereabouts. And yet he do come from hereabouts, as one may say. Look ye here. He come from t' wukhus.
"Look here!" cried his friend, "I have bred more dogs in the old country than those men ever saw in their lives." "That may be, Stewart, but yon's a good bitch," persisted Sandy.
"It's two French privateers, Edie," said I, "Chasse-marries, they call them, and yon's one of our merchant ships, and they'll take her as sure as death; for the Major says they've always got heavy guns, and are as full of men as an egg is full of meat. Why doesn't the fool make back for Tweedmouth bar?"
"Yon's an honest lad and a fine worker," remarked the cobbler, "but he do seem a bit tongue-tied now and then." And now, after the tune was played, there was no longer any excuse to put off going home. For the first time in her life Lilac dreaded it, for instead of a smile of welcome she had only a frown of displeasure to expect from her mother.
"Yon's a sunset," said Captain Matthews, a North of England man, to me, "to make a fellow think of the last day." "I'm looking at it, sir," said I, "as though I had never seen a sunset before. That's the oddest part of it, to my mind. There's fire enough there to eat a gale up. How should a cat's-paw crawl then?"
"M. Montaiglon," at last said the Chamberlain in a curious voice where feelings the most deep appeared to strive together, "yon's a tragedy, if you like." "Comment?" said the Count. He was not prepared for an opening quite like this. "Well," said the Chamberlain, "you saw it for yourself; you are not a mole like Petullo the husband. By God!
Ted stood by with his thumbs in his waistcoat pockets, smiling to himself. "Yon's gradely chickens," he remarked presently. "Ye never eat 'em do ye? 'Twouldn't be respectful, I shouldn't think." Margaret vouchsafed no reply. Ted resumed, with bitter sarcasm. "H'm, mich the same as their r'yal namesakes, I reckon kept for show an' no manner o' use to nobry."
I've not got so high up as that, yer honour: but yon's ould Michael Sweeny, now; many's the anchor he's cast out, miles at a time, sayin' he's been a sayman, and knows the says from top to bottom. It's Michael ye'll want, and Michael ye shall have."
"Haud your tongue, ye fule!" cried Malcolm, stopping him with a fierce whisper. "Yon's my lord!"
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