My foster mother, Sheila, insists that I go to St. " "She has suffered enough for you," said Wood. Don't be afraid, man,—off with it. One chance in a thousand, and that would be the girl. His face was a little flushed perhaps, and his small, brown eyes were bright. \"What about scholarships?\" \"Can't get 'em if your parents are rich. “We’ve all been mixing our ideas, and we’ve got intellectual hot coppers— every blessed one of us. As soon as he finished a sheet, he tossed it aside and began another. Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. Slowly a mirthless and very unpleasant smile dawned upon his face.
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