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C below. " "Well said, Jack," cried Figg. Borrow. The dog was, in a sense, a gift of the gods. "Strange!" observed the Master; "I thought he'd been at my elbow all this time. She could have traded it for gold nuggets and lived like a queen for a few weeks, but she did not. Satisfied, as he thought, that he had nothing to apprehend, the boy resumed his task, chanting, as he plied his knife with redoubled assiduity, the following—not inappropriate strains:— THE NEWGATE STONE.
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