Dese ere not schouts, as you faind, but jonkers on a vrolyk; and if dey'd chanshed to keel de vrow Sheppard's pet lamb, dey'd have done her a servish, by shaving it from dat unpleasant complaint, de hempen fever, with which its laatter days are threatened, and of which its poor vader died. And because he knew it was a burden, there was no gaiety upon the doctor's face; neither was there speech on his tongue. Ah! how I wish, poor dear Sir Cecil were alive! he'd keep him in order. \"Sure, but you'll have to call from my Mom and Dad's room. Ruth was something to study for future copy; she was almost unbelievable.
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