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Updated: July 27, 2025
But, d n it, you don't seem to be alive to the principle of the thing. You're not a blue-ribboner, I suppose?" And he tendered the replenished glass to Bob. "Bad hand you've got, poor fellow. Severe accident apparently?" "Sepoy bullet at Lucknow, sir. I was a lad of nineteen then; just joined." "You've been a soldier?" "Yes, sir; I was an ensign in the Queen's 64th.
Third and last call sold, for thirty-five dollars!" When Skipper heard this he hung his head. When you have been a $250 blue-ribboner and the pride of the force it is sad to be "knocked down" for thirty-five. The next year of Skipper's life was a dark one. We will not linger over it. The red-faced man who led him away was a grocer.
The old lady'll go down with colors nailed to the mast, I'll bet; and she'll leave a lot of suds where she sank. Do you know, I never blamed her so much. She was built that way. She's consider'ble like old Mrs. Patience Blodgett, who used to live up here to the Neck; like her only there never was two people more different. Pashy was the craziest blue-ribboner you ever saw.
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