" "Hold your tongue, sirrah," rejoined Shotbolt, not over-pleased by the remark, "and mind what I tell you. Drenched to the skin,—in fact, he had been lying in a bed of muddy water,—and chilled to the very bone, he felt so stiff, that he could scarcely move. As soon as the cavalcade stopped, the sexton advanced, and, ringing a handbell, pronounced the following admonition. Her glance, absorbing the gilt letters and their significance, communicated to her poised body a species of paralysis. " "Never count your chickens till they're hatched," observed Mrs. What can she have done to deserve such a fate? Oh!” They both turned round at Anna’s exclamation.
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