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This respectable man is there mentioned to have died on the 3rd of April, that year, at Cofflect, the seat of Thomas Veale, Esq., in his way to London. Dr. Harte was the tutor of Mr. Eliot and of young Stanhope, Lord Chesterfield's illegitimate son. 'My morning hopes, wrote Chesterfield to his son at Rome, 'are justly placed in Mr.
"I do think that's little Norrer Veale, but I ben't sure." "Yes, it is," said Dale, turning and speaking sharply. "What about her?" "Lord, how she's coming on," said the old man. "She's an advertisement to your larder, sir;" and he stared at the girl. "Fillin' out into all a piece o' goods, ben't un?" Then he laughed, in peasant style.
With the wind where it is, hounds are bound to push anything that's in front of them up to the high ground." As soon as Dale went to order his gig the clumsy facetiousness was renewed. "'Tes a pity you ben't a hound yersel, Mr. Allen." "Ah," said Veale, "if the wood pucks cud transform him on to all fours, what a farder he'd mek to th' next litter o' pops at the Kennels."
People said that Veale was half a gipsy, that his boys were growing up as hardy young poachers, and that every time he got drunk at the Barradine Arms he would himself produce wire nooses from his pocket, and offer to go out and snare a pheasant before the morning if anybody would pay for it in advance by another quart of ale.
"But however that may be, be pleased to believe me when I tell you that I am scarce yet recovered from several severe wounds." "Indeed! I thought I had seen you coming out of yonder tavern at a marvellous nimble gait. But my eyes are indifferent bad. Here, Master Veale, what say you, does this young man look too sick for our purpose? He says he is not recovered of his wounds."
"Nay," quoth the lieutenant, "my hearing is as indifferent as my eyesight, and I follow you not. Master Veale, if this youngster uses any blasphemy or indecency let him be gagged till we come aboard again." This threat was enough to silence me, if I had not been otherwise afraid to make a stir.
Veale, a well-known Pretoria doctor, states that at daybreak on Thursday, January 2, Commandant Hendrik Schoeman called on him to secure his professional attendance for a member of his family who was very ill.
Aboard the Marquis died, on the 8th, John Veale, a Landsman, having lain ill a Fortnight, and had a Swelling in the Legs ever since he left the Island of Grande. At nine at night we buried him; and this was the first we had lost by Sickness since we left England.
Dale he druv at me wi' 's fist, and kep' a bunching me off wi' 's knees, and then when all the wind and the wickedness was gone out o' me, he tuk me behind th' scruff a' the neck and just paddled me along like a dummy." At this point Veale would pause to laugh, before continuing. "Nor that wasn't all, nether. So soon as Mr.
Three of these men were captured, taken to England, and hanged, but the fourth-Thomas Veale escaped to a cavern in the wood, where, it was reputed, great treasures were concealed, and there he lived until the earthquake of 1658, when a rock fell from the roof of the cave, closing the entrance and burying the guilty man in a tomb where, it is presumed, he perished of thirst and hunger.
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