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Various

"Stories of Mystery"

So I
smoothed away the snow wi' my cuffs, an' I sid 't was a poor thing wi'
her whelp close by her, an' her tongue out, as ef she'd a-died fondlun
an' lickun it; an' a great puddle o' blood,--it looked tarrible
heartless, when I was so nigh to death, an' was n' hungry. An' then
I feeled a stick, an' I thowt, 'It may be a help to me,' an' so I pulled
un, an' it would n' come, an' I found she was lyun on it; so I hauled
agen, an' when it comed, 't was my gaff the poor baste had got away
from me, an' got it under her, an' she was a-lyun on it. Some o' the
men, when they was runnun for dear life, must ha' struck 'em, out o'
madness like, an' laved 'em to die where they was. 'T was the whelp
was n' quite dead. 'Ee 'll think 't was foolish, Sir, but it seemed
as though they was somethun to me, an' I'd a-lost the last friendly
thing there was.
[Footnote 10: Mittens.]
"I found a big hummock an' sheltered under it, standun on my feet, wi'
nawthun to do but think, an' think, an' pray to God; an' so I doned.


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