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Updated: May 17, 2025
"Merciful Heaven!" he exclaims, despondingly, as he extends a sheltering arm over the heads of his dear ones. "Is it thus to end? Are we to be stoned to death?" "Yonder's a Heaven's marcy, I do believe!" says Seagriff on the instant, "comin' to our help 'roun' Burnt Island. Thet'll bring a change, sure!"
Go, my Dear, go to Bed I'll send Sir Nicholas a Receit for the Chest, and be with thee presently Gay. Hah, where am I? By Heaven, my last Night's Vision 'Tis that inchanted Room, and yonder's the Alcove! Enter Sir Cautious. Gay. Sir Cau. Ay, my Dear, I'm coming she's in Bed I'll go put out the Candle, and then Gay. Ay, I'll warrant you for my part Sir Cau.
He's never worried a sheep from that day to this, and if you offer him a bit of sheep's wool now, he tucks his tail between his legs, and runs for home. Now, I must stop my talk, for we're in sight of the farm. Yonder's our boundary line, and there's the house. You'll see a difference in the trees since you were here before."
Yonder's a prize, but it'll require imagination to win it; consequently you need Adelbert P. Gibney in your business, if you're contemplatin' hookin' on to that bark, snakin' her into San Francisco Bay, an' libelin' her for ten thousand dollars' salvage.
"Those that help nobody will not be so apt to come to need," replied Goodenough. "But yonder's my men standing idle. If I but turn my head, that's the way of them. Good morrow to you, cousin Wright; I can't stand argufying here about charity, which won't plough my ground, nor bring me a jot nearer to the ten thousand pounds' legacy: so good morrow to you. My service to cousin Marvel."
These thoughts chased away her smiles completely, and such a grave expression took their place that the farmer noticed the change. "Tired, missie, eh?" he inquired. "Well, we're there now, so to speak. Yonder's the spire of Waverley church, and the Vicarage is close against it steady then, lass," as Molly objected to turning in at a white gate.
Lord love you! this is a large house enow, but we cannot have separate lock-ups for folk, as they have in Newgate or in Bedlam. Yonder's a mad beggar, that is to be a great man when he wins a lawsuit, Lord help him!
'Well, yonder's Hat Island and we can't make it. All the watches closed with a snap, everybody sighed and muttered something about its being 'too bad, too bad ah, if we could only have got here half an hour sooner! and the place was thick with the atmosphere of disappointment. Some started to go out, but loitered, hearing no bell-tap to land. The sun dipped behind the horizon, the boat went on.
It had stopped raining and the sky had cleared a little when they went to the door half an hour later. To the right, across the road, rose a tall gaunt shape like the skeleton of an elongated pyramid crowned with two big wheels. Lights were blazing round it, for the pit was working night and day getting the steam coal to the surface. "Yonder's t' shaft," said Tom, as they shook hands.
Yonder's a Quaker and a lawyer charged with a riot; and, ecod, I must make one key and one lock keep them, for we are chokeful, and you have sent off old Nixon that could have given one some help in this confusion. Besides, they take up every one a room, and call for naughts on earth, excepting the old man, who calls lustily enough, but he has not a penny to pay shot.
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