Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. Major said you’d gorn. Earles would permit. I trust that no unpleasant rumours will be circulated before the election, at any rate. ’ I said. "Is it indeed you, or am I dreaming?" "You're not dreaming, mother," he answered.
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