‘The general himself?’ ‘How shall I get my inheritance if the general will believe that pig?’ ‘Do wish you wouldn’t keep on calling him a pig,’ Martha begged. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. My birthday was on May first. By the time she arrived at the Beck’s doorstep, the morning was risen. " "You won't complain of the delay when I tell you what I've done," answered Jack.
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