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Verner, Frederick Massingbird, and Tynn came hastening forth. Mr. Verner followed, feeble, and leaning on his stick. Frederick Massingbird seized upon the boy, questioning sharply. "Rachel Frost's a-drowned in the Willow Pond," he reiterated. "I see'd her." A moment of pause, of startled suspense, and then they flew off, men and women, as with one accord, Frederick Massingbird leading the van.
"I suppose that you do come for to go to know me now, any how," said Smallbones. "Hath the sea given up its dead?" replied Vanslyperken, in a hollow voice. "No, it ar'n't, 'cause why? I never was a-drowned," replied Smallbones; "no thanks to you, though; but if so be as I supposes, you be a-going to be hung as I'm a good Christian, I'll forgive you that is, if you be hung, you know."
He grinned to me and nodded his head. "It's just as well O'Sullivan wasn't here, sir," he said. "He'd a-drowned in the lower bunk. And I want to tell you I was doing some swimmin' before I could get into the top one. And salt water's bad for my sores. I oughtn't to be in a hole like this in Cape Horn weather. Look at the ice, there, on the floor.
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