Take it," he cried, lifting the babe from the bottom of the boat, and flinging it towards its unfortunate father. A film of dust lay upon it; the ink marks were ancient. It would be very hard perhaps to make you understand just how I feel about it. "Stay, dear Thames!—stay!" cried the little girl. " "You shall be treated according to your deserts, then," said Jonathan, maliciously. Let me engage myself. "What poet was that?" "Stevenson.
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