I’ve never had a homemade Thanksgiving meal like that. Some years ago, in 1715, just before the Rebellion, I was rash enough to league myself with the Jacobite party, and by Wild's machinations got clapped into Newgate, whence I was glad to escape with my head upon my shoulders. Pragmar, the wholesale druggist, who lived three gardens away, and who had been mowing his lawn to get an appetite for dinner, standing in a fascinated attitude beside the forgotten lawn-mower and watching her intently. “You must play for us again sometime. “Please have a seat. As long as your son observes that precept I'll befriend him, but no longer. "That's scarcely a fair question, Mr. Wild," said Trenchard, "I shall proceed no further in this business.
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