Well, one must hope, that was all. "Well, lad, supposing you read what the editor has to say?" was McClintock's suggestion, when the frolic was over. So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity. Advancing towards Wood, Jonathan fixed his keen gray eyes upon him, and demanded, in a stern tone whether the persons who had taken refuge in the adjoining house, were bailiffs. She remembered possessing it during the Gold Rush.
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