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Updated: May 9, 2025
Look how you considers of us, and writes of us, and talks of us, and goes up wi' yor deputations to Secretaries o' State 'bout us, and how yo are awlus right, and how we are awlus wrong, and never had'n no reason in us sin ever we were born. Look how this ha growen an' growen, sir, bigger an' bigger, broader an' broader, harder an' harder, fro year to year, fro generation unto generation.
'Do ged on wi' yor tale, Malachi; what does Mr. Penrose want to know abaat lasses o' forty year sin'? He's geddin' one o' his own and that's enough for him, aw'm sure. 'Aw nobbud want him to know that there were bonnie lasses i' aar time as well as i' his that were all, Betty. 'Well, ged on wi' yo', an' durnd be so long abaat it, Malachi. 'One day, Mr.
I doan't believe as yo're a bit happy i' yor mind! Coom away! we'se luke after you we're your aan kith an kin!" Laura paused in Polly's arm. Then she turned her wild face the eyes half closed, the pale lips passionately smiling. "I'll come, Polly, when I'm dead or my heart's dead not before!" And, wrenching herself away, she ran down the path.
He came forward and took Blue by the bridle when she dismounted, which was still more unusual, for Billy Louise always cared for her own horse both from habit and preference. "Yor mommie, she's sick," he announced stolidly. "She's worry you maybe hurt yoreself. Yo better go, maybe." Billy Louise did not answer, but ran up the path to the cabin.
At last she took up a little stone and threw it across at David. 'What's yor silly old secret about, then? 'Where's my book, then? replied David, holding up the boat and looking with one eye shut along the keel. 'Iv I gie it yer, an yor secret ain't wo'th it, I'll put soom o' that watter down yor neckhole, said Louie, nodding towards the place.
Hannah was propitiated by the boy's silence, and as she got supper ready she once or twice noticed his fine black eyes and his curly hair. 'Yo can coom an get yor supper, she said to him, more graciously than she had spoken yet. 'It's a mussy yo doant goo skrikin like your sister.
So when they Irish reapers comes into the vens, our chaps always says, 'Yow goo to Guy Hall, there's yor brithren a-waitin' for yow, and that do make um joost mad loike, it do. I tell ye there's nowt like a wise 'ooman, for vinding out the likes o' this." At this hopeful stage of the argument I left them to go to the Magazine office.
Rowcliffe drew up the sheet and covered it. "You'd better come out of this. It isn't good for you," he said. "I knaw what's good for me, Dr. Rawcliffe." Jim stuck his hands in his breeches and gazed stubbornly at the sheeted mound. "Come," Rowcliffe said, "don't give way like this. Buck up and be a man." "A ma-an? You wait till yor turn cooms, doctor."
'Get away, nasty woman! Nasty woman ugly woman! Take me away I want my daddy, I want my daddy. And she threw herself kicking on the floor, while, to Hannah's exasperation, a piece of crumbling bun she had been holding tight in her sticky little hand escaped and littered all the new-washed stones. 'Tak yor niece oop, Reuben, an mak her behave' the mistress of the house commanded angrily.
Bot if it will pleas yor Lordship to be acquent wt the causis and incidentis preceidding this dolorous effect, I hoip yor Lordship wilbe the mair easilie persuadit of the treuth.
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