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Aileen aroon. Is it the tender tone? Soft as the string'd harp's mean? No; it is Truth alone, Aileen aroon. I know a valley fair, Aileen aroon. I know a cottage there, Aileen aroon. Far in that valley's shade, I know a gentle maid, Flower of the hazel glade, Aileen aroon. Who in the song so sweet? Aileen aroon, Who in the dance so fleet? Aileen aroon.
Your string'd look big enough, some days, just as you caught 'em." "Would it?" "Yes, it would. Don't you imagine we can pull 'em in every time like we did this morning, crabs nor fish." "No, I s'pose not. Anyhow, I've learned some things." "I guess likely. We'll go for some more next week. Now for a tug." "Ain't they heavy, though!"
It was fixed under the root of a tree; and if the trap went off, why, don't you see, the string'd give me just a sweet little yank, like it wanted to tell me to come around and take my game out." "And did you feel that same yank?" demanded Steve, sitting up suddenly. "Right now, before I woke Owen up. Oh, it was a sure enough jerk, all right! What'll we do about it?" demanded Bandy-legs.
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