"If it warn't for me you'd have been to the churchyard long ago, and stayed there.

Who brought you up by hand ?" "You did," said I.
"And why did I do it, I should like to know ?" exclaimed my sister.
I whimpered, "I don't know." "I don't!" said my sister.

"I'd never do it again! I know that.

I may truly say I've never had this apron of mine off since born you were.
It's bad enough to be a blacksmith's wife (and him a Gargery) without being your mother." My thoughts strayed from that question as I looked disconsolately at the fire.

For the fugitive out on the marshes with the ironed leg, the mysterious young man, the file, the food, and the dreadful pledge I was under to commit a larceny on those sheltering premises, rose before me in the avenging coals.
"Hah!" said Mrs.Joe, restoring Tickler to his station.