I am carrying back a hundred new books and forty new records for the piano-player. Good night. The ink, contained in a grimy bottle unearthed in the outhouse, was old, and made blotches as soon as it touched the paper. “By Jove!” he exclaimed. After all, that was life. —'We'll do it,' said they, filling their glasses, and looking as fierce as King George's grenadier guards; 'here's your health, Mint. Wood, you shan't lord it over me, I can promise you.
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