"Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night. It was Blueskin. Meysey Hill—never your wife. " "Mother!" cried Jack, in a broken voice. " At this juncture, the door opened, and Thames entered the room. But we've got to cook up some kind of a story to protect her.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 01-10-2024 03:32:28