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VIII. The Malthouse—The Chat—News

           "

           "Andhertoo!"

           "Likewiseknowedyerfatherwhenhewasachild.Why,myboyJacobthereandyourfatherwereswornbrothersthattheyweresureweren’tye,Jacob?"

           "Ay,sure,"saidhisson,ayoungmanaboutsixty-five,withasemi-baldheadandonetoothintheleftcentreofhisupperjaw,whichmademuchofitselfbystandingprominent,likeamilestoneinabank."But’twasJoehadmosttodowithhim.However,mysonWilliammusthaveknowedtheverymanaforeusdidn’tye,Billy,aforeyeleftNorcombe?"

           "No,’twasAndrew,"saidJacob’ssonBilly,achildofforty,orthereabouts,whomanifestedthepeculiarityofpossessingacheerfulsoulinagloomybody,andwhosewhiskerswereassumingachinchillashadehereandthere.

           "IcanmindAndrew,"saidOak,"asbeingamanintheplacewhenIwasquiteachild."

           "AytheotherdayIandmyyoungestdaughter,Liddy,wereoveratmygrandson’schristening,"continuedBilly."Weweretalkingaboutthisveryfamily,and’twasonlylastPurificationDayinthisveryworld,whentheuse-moneyisgiedawaytothesecond-bestpoorfolk,youknow,shepherd,andIcanmindthedaybecausetheyallhadtotraypseuptothevestryyes,thisveryman’sfamily."

           "Come,shepherd,anddrink.’Tisgapeandswallerwithusadrapofsommit,butnotofmuchaccount,"saidthemaltster,removingfromthefirehiseyes,whichwerevermilion-redandblearedbygazingintoitforsomanyyears."TakeuptheGod-forgive-me,Jacob.Seeif’tiswarm,Jacob.

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Roboto Lora
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