Heavens and airth! I am wringing wet! I'm ready to faint! Where's the key of your cellaret?
I want some brandy and water.

I'm dead; bury me quick, for I won't be nice directly.

Oh dear! how that lean gall hurt me! How horrid sharp her bones are! "I wish to goodness you'd go to a Swoi-ree oncet, Squire, jist oncet--a grand let off, one that's upper crust and rael jam.

It's worth seein' oncet jist as a show, I tell _you_, for you have no more notion of it than a child.

All Halifax, if it was swept up clean and shook out into a room, wouldn't make one swoi-ree.