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Soldiers do wear their hair pretty close, but his head looked quite indecent; and, as for his starshers, they're like a bit o' black toothbrush worn stumpy." "You said that you had some news," said Dick, angrily. "And then there's him as ought to ha' been the worst of all you three. He got burnt a deal, but it was mostly about the clothes. The padding in his uniform seemed to save him.
Now then, sir, I says; `if you please? And then I takes off his belts and his regimentals, gets him on the couch, and I rubs him and cracks him." "You did what?" cried Dick. "Massages him, sir; and him a-staring at me all the time. After that I shampoos and washes him, trims the pyntes off his hair, waxes his starshers, gives him a cigarette, and then I rejoices his heart."
"Look at his starshers, Mas' Don," said Jem, as the bird's side tufts half covered the beak and then left it bare. "Look at his hair, too. Hasn't he brushed it up in a point? There, he heared what I said, and has laid it down again. Look at him! Look at him! Did you ever see such a rum one in your life?"
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