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Crowley, Mary Catherine

"Apples, Ripe and Rosy, Sir"


She 'peared miserable 'nough, I can tell yer: bein' all of a shiver an'
shake, with her teeth chatterin' like a monkey's.
"Mirandy stood off, thinkin' the creetur was wild or half-witted,
likely; but I says: 'Bullets an' bombshells, Mirandy'--escuse me,
gentlemen, but that's a good, strong-soundin' espression, that relieves
my feelin's good as a swear word,--bullets an' bombshells, woman, don't
yer see the girl's all broke up with the ague?'--'Why, sur 'nough!'
cried she, a-comin' to her senses. 'I'd oughter known a chill with
half an eye; an' sartain this beats all I ever saw,' With that she
went over an' tuk the girl in her arms, an' sot her on the bench,
sayin', 'You pore honey, you! Whar'd you come from?' At this the
leetle one began to cry--tried to speak, then started to cry again.
'Wa-all, never mind a-talkin' about it now,' says Mirandy, settin' to
quiet her, an' pettin' an' soothin' her in a way that I wouldn't
a-believed of Mirandy if I hadn't a-seen it; for she hasn't had much to
tetch the soft spot in her heart sence our leetle Sallie died, which is
nigh onto eight year ago.


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