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Excerpt from The Story of a Short Life
The child was defiantly like his father, even to a knitted brow, for his whole face was crumpled with the vigor Of some resolve which he found it hard to keep, and which was symbolized by his holding the little red tip Of his tongue betwixt finger and thumb.
Put your hands down, Leonard Put your tongue in, sir! What are you after? What do you want? What are you doing here? Be Off to the nursery, and tell jemima to keep you there. Your mother and I are busy.
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