“You are talking like a boy. He seemed to have shrunken in his seat. "What is it?" demanded the woollen-draper, as he returned to the table, and took up a glass. “I feared we might have a fog. But I'll not believe it of you. "Go to the pump, Nab," he said, when this was done, "and fill a pail with water. " "Would you like to have me read to you?" He did not answer.
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