“Look at our clothes,” she exclaimed, “and besides, the funny little proprietor has gone down himself to help it along. "Do you call neglecting your work, and singing flash songs nothing? Zounds! you incorrigible rascal, many a master would have taken you before a magistrate, and prayed for your solitary confinement in Bridewell for the least of these offences. When you don’t have any toes left, I take your precious little cock.
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