If Jack should die, all though her fault, she could never forgive herself. You’ve got to take what you can get. By George, I forgot! McClintock said there was a typewriter in the office and that I could have it. 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. I've another reason for supposing he'll pay me a visit. There was the cottage she had inhabited for so many years,—in those fields she had rambled,—at that church she had prayed. His perseverance was amply rewarded.
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