Lost, stolen, or strayed, the Young Person!. When I have traversed the streets a houseless wanderer, driven with curses from every door where I have solicited alms, and with blows from every gateway where I have sought shelter,—when I have crept into some deserted building, and stretched my wearied limbs upon a bulk, in the vain hope of repose,—or, worse than all, when, frenzied with want, I have yielded to horrible temptation, and earned a meal in the only way I could earn one,—when I have felt, at times like these, my heart sink within me, I have drank of this drink, and have at once forgotten my cares, my poverty, my guilt. ‘All so long ago and my memory ain’t what it was. And he hazarded a wink at the poet over the paper on which he was sketching. Nothing could exceed the dismay of these personages when they learnt why they had been summoned. Enschede—that's a queer name. ‘What’s more, I wouldn’t blame her.
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