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The laughter burst out afresh as Seth clapped his hands to his head, and coloured over brow and crown. "Hoorray!" shouted a small lithe fellow called Wiry Ben, running forward and seizing the door. "We'll hang up th' door at fur end o' th' shop an' write on't 'Seth Bede, the Methody, his work. Here, Jim, lend's hould o' th' red pot." "Nonsense!" said Adam. "Let it alone, Ben Cranage.
It's like going to the shop with an ould Manx shilling you get your pen'orth of taffy and twelve pence out." "Lend's a hand with the jough then, boy. None left? Aw, Cæsar's wonderful religious, but there's never much lavings of ale with him." Cæsar was striding through the stooks past Philip and Kate. "Will it thrash well, Mr. Cregeen?" said Philip.
A thousand, a million, nay, a hundred million of devils seize the hornified doddipole. Lend's a hand here, hoh, tiger, wouldst thou? Here, on the starboard side. Ods-me, thou buffalo's head stuffed with relics, what ape's paternoster art thou muttering and chattering here between thy teeth?
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