From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. "Old Morgan the trader," she explained, "used to save me Tit-Bits. The candle was shaking in his hand as Ruth appeared in the doorway. "All's bowman, my covey. You'll be along next spring?" "If the old tub will float. "One of you fly to the market," returned Jonathan; "another to the river; a third to the New Mint.
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