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'I'm mis'rable and very ill, said Bobby in an injured tone. 'Nobbles and me both is, and I want to see my lady! This cry was continually upon his lips, and at last one afternoon nurse opened the door and ushered in Lady Isobel. 'I am sure it is very good of you, my lady, to come to him; he is getting a bit fretful now that he's better.
"Well, den, siven fat cows come up out ob a ribber, an' hoed slap at siven thin cows mis'rable skinny critters that " "All wrong, Ebony," again interrupted Waroonga. "It's just the other way. The skinny ones went at the fat ones." "Well, ob course you must be right," returned the negro, humbly, "though I'd have 'spected it was t'other way.
Paul returned the saucepan to the fire, after piecing out its contents with water, and retired out of his patient's sight. Again came a murmur, chiefly unintelligible, from the bunk. "Did you ask for anything?" The sick man heaved a worried sigh. "See what a mis'rable presumptuous piece of work!" he muttered, addressing the logs overhead.
Instead iv lollin' on a sofy an' listenin' to th' song iv th' mockin' bur-rd in th' pommygranite threes while ladies fr'm th' chorus iv 'Th' Black Crook' fanned him with fans iv peacock feathers, th' mis'rable old haythen was locked up in a garret with a revolver in his hand ready to shoot anny wan that come next or near him. He suffered fr'm dyspepsia an' he cuddent sleep nights.
I was shorely born with a yearnin' for the level ground. An' so Grief moves his camp down on the river bottoms, where thar ain't no hills. "He's that mis'rable idle an' shiftless, this yere Grief is, that once he starts huntin' an' then decides he won't. Grief lays down by the aige of the branch, with his moccasins towards the water.
"I only said that Daniel, here, couldn't have anything to do with such a mis'rable mule. Daniel's a thoroughbred!" "Thurerbred!" Zack scornfully repeated. "Jes' heah dat! Why, he ain' big 'nough to be no kind o' bred! He ain' got 'nough blood in 'im to call it real breedin'!" The boy's face flushed. "He's by Shadeland Wildon," he cried, "and out of Hurstbourne Trinket!
"Try as I kin, I can't live much longer. 'Tis on'y nat'ral I should think o' Dora an' th' child'en." "Yu think a sight too much on 'em, bor! 'Tis time yu give 'em up. Yu lay o' yer deathbed, Mis' Green, an' yu a mis'rable sinner; can't you put up a prayer to ask th' Lord ter have marcy on yer?" "No," said Mrs Green. "'No' an' why not?" "Cos I don' keer." "Don' keer, Mis' Green?"
We say to thim: 'Naygurs, we say, 'poor, dissolute, uncovered wretches, says we, 'whin th' crool hand iv Spain forged man'cles f'r ye'er limbs, as Hogan says, who was it crossed th' say an' sthruck off th' comealongs? We did, by dad, we did. An' now, ye mis'rable, childish-minded apes, we propose f'r to larn ye th' uses iv liberty.
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