Jack's former attempt to pass up the chimney, it may be remembered, was obstructed by an iron bar. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. I’m anxious, joyfully anxious, like a man when he has found a treasure. Part 2 The next morning was as dark and foggy as if it was mid-November instead of early March.
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