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Updated: August 21, 2024
"Aye, ye kin bate a pair ov oul boots there is!" "What will th' ants do wi' th' fly?" Jamie asked. "Huh!" he grunted with an air of authority, "they'll haave rump steaks fur tay and fly broth fur breakvist th' morra!" "Th' don't need praychers down there, do th', Willie?" "Don't need thim up here!" he said.
"Well, if ye haave, Sir Frederick," returned Lyon, who was a Scotchman, "it'll be just once a year since ye war' born, leaving out the time ye war' in the nursery. But we've not come here to enlighten Captain Cuffe in these particulars, so much as in obedience to an order of the rear-admiral's little Nel., as ye'll be calling him, I suppose, Sir Frederick Dashwood?"
Fate's cut yer heart in two an' oul Docther Time an' the care of God are about the only shure cures goin'." "Cudn't the ministher help a little if he was here, Anna?" "If ye think so I'll get him, 'Liza!" "He might put th' love of God in me!" "Puttin' th' love of God in ye isn't like stuffin' yer mouth with a pirta, 'Liza!" "That's so, it is, but he might thry, Anna!" "Well, ye'll haave 'im." Mr.
"Divil a girl, at all!" "Them feelin's sometimes comes frum a girl, ye know. I had wan wanst, but that's a long story, heigh ho; aye, that's a long story!" "Did she die, Willie?" "Never mind her. That feelin' may haave been from God. Yer Ma hes a quare notion that wan chile o' her'n will be inclined that way. She's dhrawn eleven blanks, maybe she's dhrawn a prize, afther all; who knows."
"'No, says she, 'our crock ov love was niver dhrained. "I brot a candle in an' stuck it in th' sconce so 's I cud see 'er face." "'We might haave done betther, says she, 'but sich a wee house, so many childther an' so little money. "'We war i' hard up, says I. "'We wor niver hard up in love, wor we? "'No, Anna, says I, 'but love dizn't boil th' kittle.
Sandy shook hands with him and wished him a pleasant journey. Hainey hoped he would live long and prosper. As he expressed the hope he furtively stuffed into one of Hughie's pockets a small package. Anna came out and led Hughie into the house for breakfast. The little crowd moved toward the door. On the doorstep she turned around and said: "Hughie's goin' t' haave a cup an' a slice an' go.
I had sumhow got perseshun of a hosswhip on my way home, and rememberin' sum cranky observations of Mrs. Ward's in the mornin', I snapt the whip putty lively, and in a very loud woice, I sed, "Betsy, you need reorganizin'! I have cum, Betsy," I continued crackin the whip over the bed "I have cum to reorganize you! Haave you per-ayed tonight?"
He had just returned from his vigil as night watchman at the Greens and was going the longest way around to his home. He leaned his gun against the house side and lit his pipe. Then he opened the sty door, softly, and said: "Morra, Hughie." "Morra, Con," came the answer, in calliope tones from our guest. "Haave ye a good stock ov tubacca?" Con asked Hughie.
'Purty well, Micky, his head is out. 'Begorra, thin, I know th' rist ov 'im will be out soon I'll pay for no more masses! Your head is up and out from the bottom of th' world, and I haave faith that ye'll purty soon be all out, an' some day ye'll get the larger view, for ye'll be in a larger place an' ye'll haave seen more of people an' more of the world." I have two letters of that period.
"Some day we'll haave a home like this," Jamie said as they descended the steps. Anna named it "The Mount of Temptation," for it was the nearest she had ever been to the sin of envy. A one-armed Crimean pensioner named Steele occupied it during my youth. It could be seen from Pogue's entry and Anna used to point it out and tell the story of that memorable journey.
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