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His prayer-book was in his hand, and he still remained on his knees. He had been praying for me. Supposing me still insensible, he broke out in the following soliloquy: "Naviculator larvus pallidus how beautiful even in death! My poor lighter-boy, that hath mastered the rudiments, and triumphed over the Accidence but to die! Levior puer, a puerile conceit, yet I love it, as I do thee.
"Earth, lay light upon the lighter-boy the lotus, the water-lily, that hath been cast on shore to die. Hadst thou lived, Jacob, I would have taught thee the Humanities; we would have conferred pleasantly together. I would have poured out my learning to thee, my Absalom, my son!"
"A well-disposed answer, Jacob; thy wishes shall be gratified. Knowest thou thine alphabet?" "I don't know what that is." "Then thou knowest it not. Mr Knapps shall forthwith instruct thee. Thou shall forthwith go to Mr Knapps, who inculcateth the rudiments. Levior Puer, lighter-boy, thou hast a crafty look."
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