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Excerpt from My Young Alcides, Vol. 2: A Faded Photograph
We had come to the door, only divided from Mrs. Jennings's by a low fence and a few bushes, when voices struck on our ears, and we saw Bullock's big, sturdy, John Bull form planted in a defiant attitude in the garden-path before the door, where the old woman stood courtesying, and ming ling entreating protestations against an additional. Sixpence a week on her rent with petitions that at least the chimney might be made sound and the roof water-tight.
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