There was a trader—a man who bought copra and pearls. He was not a sailor. “Well, hello there. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. He resented being regarded as irregular. If you don’t like it, I won’t be mad, I promise. This person, whose age might be about forty, was attired in a brown double-breasted frieze coat, with very wide skirts, and a very narrow collar; a light drugget waistcoat, with pockets reaching to the knees; black plush breeches; grey worsted hose; and shoes with round toes, wooden heels, and high quarters, fastened by small silver buckles. ” “Then I am sure,” Sir John declared, “that I shall not ask you. But for all that, it offered relief; his brain, stupefied by the fumes, grew dull, and conscience lost its edge to bite.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 18-09-2024 07:56:15
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