Now you are confounding Antwerp with Amsterdam. Not it, indeed! The circumstance of the French having seized Antwerp, where I was born, does not make me a Frenchman. Is there mony o' your mak' i' your country? inquired Joe, as he folded up his temporary bed, and put it away. I've read th' history o' Scotland, and happen knaw as mich on't as ye and I understand ye to mean to say ye'll persevere. You never heard of Bruce, perhaps?Īnd th' arrand (spider)? Yes, but I hev. Get up, and we'll take a turn through the mill before the hands come in, and I'll explain my future plans. Not a stiver, mon garçon-which means, my lad. Ye're not custen dahn, then, maister? cried Joe. He awoke his man by singing a French song as he made his toilet. The master, always an early riser, was up somewhat sooner even than usual. He and Joe Scott had both spent the night in the mill, availing themselves of certain sleeping accommodations producible from recesses in the front and back counting-houses. Moore's good spirits were still with him when he rose next morning.
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