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"His Ma wouldn't let him come. Afraid he'd get wet an' go sick ag'in. Gee! that coffee smells good, Erie." "Mr. Hinter, where did that stuff on them wagons come from?" "She's a beautiful young lady—highly eddicated," said the master of Louisa Ann..

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The man waited outside for Mr Lawrence. When he appeared he seized his hand, and fell upon his crooked knees and kissed and slobbered his hand, and blubbered, with tears trickling down his face, "that so help him his good God, come what might he would do anything, no matter what, to serve his honour, he would die for his honour; let his honour command him to jump into the river then and there and drown himself, he'd do it if only to please him." His gestures whilst on his knees, his extraordinary grimaces, the strange, wild terms in which he expressed his pathetic gratitude for this condescension of a gentleman in taking notice of, and rescuing from gaol a poor, pitiful vagabond, a child of the parish,[Pg 119] a no man's son, nor woman's either, a creature who lived he could not tell how, sometimes by stealing a raw vegetable, sometimes by running an errand, sometimes by the bounty of a tradesman who might fling him a crust, or of some drunken fisherman who might toss him a shilling to sing him a song and dance as he sang, a performance so hideously uncouth that Hogarth would have immortalised it could he have witnessed it; his gratitude, in short, was so diverting, at the same time moving in its appeal to pity, that Mr Lawrence could scarcely forbear a laugh, and indeed did laugh when he got rid of the fellow and walked away. Wilson looked relieved. "I can't make head er tail of it," he said, frowning. "I can't think that Hinter is behind the men in any deviltry." Erie was waving to him from the kitchen door. "Where's Maurice?" she called. The boys slid from the fence, then leaped back as something long and white rose from behind a fallen tree and, with a startled snort, confronted them..