Once a sick sailor drew three pictures for me and set down every stay and brace and sail—square-rigger, schooner, and sloop. "Ever play one of these machines?" "Yes. "Come with me, my love, come—come," cried his mother, seizing his hand, and endeavouring to force him away. Haven’t I shown you over and over again that I mean you no harm? What do I have to do?’ ‘You can go away and leave me to my affairs,’ she threw at him. You never can tell. ’ ‘Then you will not be disappointed.
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