Now Owen Wood had one fair child, Unlike her mother, meek and mild; Her love the draper strove to gain, But she repaid him with disdain. "Going to befuddle himself between now and dinner," was the comment of Prudence. " "Not in the least, Sir," replied Tom, in a drowsy tone, and with a look seeming to imply that he was too much accustomed to odd noises at night to heed them. She shuddered, adding confidentially, ‘You wouldn’t get me in there now, mind.
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