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"Mista Gay!" came in the Indian's low voice. "Well Navvy?" I asked. "Sleepie sleepie?" "Yes, Navvy, sleepy and tired. Are you?" "Me savvy mucha sleepie mucha no bueno." I did not wonder at his feeling sleepy, tired and bad. He did not awaken me in the morning, for when my eyes unclosed the tent was light and he had gone. I found my companions up and doing.
What now I speake Againe ile speake alowd; let who will tell it, I never will fly from it. Hog. What you purpose I will not fly from. Gro. Back you then to Leyden, Ile keep at Roterdam: there if he fetch me Ile nere repent whatever can fall on me. Enter Leidenberch & Boy. Boy. Leid. No, my Boy, not yet. Boy. 'Tis late and I grow sleepie. Leid. Goe to bed then, For I must wryte, my Childe. Boy.
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