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Updated: June 23, 2025
They said he just comed a wee babby to the coourt a wanderin' with the other childer, with scarce a rag to his back, an' a smile on him like the arch-angel, and some said as how he niver had no father ner mother, but dthrapped sthraight frum the place where de angels live." "But did no one take care of him, or ever try to find out about him?" questioned Michael wistfully. "Foind out, is it? Whist!
Well, old 'Lysses in them roamings uv his, lastin' a thousand years or some sech time, would hev been glad to come upon a place like this to rest his wanderin' an' sleepy head. I've a notion uv my own too, Paul." "What is it?" "That Greece ain't the land it's cracked up to be. I've never heard you tell uv any rivers thar like the Ohio or Missip.
So I concloods I'll round up my silver outside an' then return. "'Excuse me," I says to Frosty. "You stay right yere with the bottle, an' I'll be among you ag'in in a minute all spraddled out." "'I goes wanderin' out back of the Tub of Blood, where it's lonesome, an' camps down by a Spanish-bayonet, an' tugs away to get my boot off an' my dinero into circ'lation.
Ye couldn't understand me. I was mad, I believe, for a time; but when I came back here to stay, after wanderin' in foreign parts for many years, I took to comin' to the grave at nights. At first I got no good. I thought my heart would burst altogether, but at last the Lord sent peace into my soul.
Craven ordered Mrs. Medlock to get 'em in London. He said 'I won't have a child dressed in black wanderin' about like a lost soul, he said. 'It'd make the place sadder than it is. Put color on her. Mother she said she knew what he meant. Mother always knows what a body means. She doesn't hold with black hersel'." "I hate black things," said Mary.
He lived to a verra great age, an' for many years they who did'na ken the story o' his early life ha'e ca'd him Wanderin' Davy. I hae noo tell'd you his story," said Mr. C. addressing me; "an' I hope it may prove a warnin' to you an' ithers o' the awfu' evils o' intemperance; an' I think it's high time my story was finished, for I see by the clock that it's growin' unco late."
If they're still in their camp we can get by easy enough, but they're maybe wanderin' about the wud after rabbits.... Then we maun ford the water, for ye'll no' cross it lower down where it's deep.... Our road is on the Hoose side o' the Dean, and it's awfu' public if there's onybody on the other side, though it's hid well enough from folk up in the policies.... Ye maun do exactly what I tell ye.
"But I hate a snooper worse than I do a rat. You can take them arms down." Bull lowered them cautiously. "You hear me talk?" asked the sheriff. "I hear," said Bull obediently. "I don't like snoopers. Which means that I don't like you none too well. Besides, who in thunder are you? A wanderin' vagrant you look to me, and we got a law agin' vagrants.
"'Tis a rare big bean," he said, in the trembling quaver of old age, and with a mumbling laugh like that of a pleased child. "I'll give you two shillin's for it. I suppose you want money badly, or else you wouldn't be wanderin' about at ten o'clock at night tryin' to sell it. I hope you come by it honest, young man?"
"Mebbe you're right," he said doubtfully. "I don't know 'bout such things. But who'da thought that cave would be discovered. Why, I just come on it accidental like onct when I was wanderin' through these hills." "Boys, there's only one thing to do," said Jack in a determined voice, "and that's to investigate." "Righto, Jack," said Frank eagerly. "Here's our chance to get back our airplane."
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