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The thresher's weary flingin-tree The lee-lang day had tired me: And whan the day bad closed his e'e, Far i' the west, Ben i' the spence, right pensivelie, I 'gaed to rest. Burns. Queechy was reached at night. Fleda had promised herself to be off almost with the dawn of light the next morning to see aunt Miriam, but a heavy rain kept her fast at home the whole day.
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