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Terence was pacing the garden, his leggings turned black with the dew. I looked at him. Here was a vessel to disseminate. "Terence, the Colonel is going back to Virginia with the army." "Him!" cried Terence, dropping the stock of his Deckard to the ground. "And back to Kaintuckee! Arrah, 'tis a sin to be jokin' before a man has a bit in his sthummick. Bad cess to yere plisantry before breakfast."
Terence was pacing the garden, his leggings turned black with the dew. I looked at him. Here was a vessel to disseminate. "Terence, the Colonel is going back to Virginia with the army." "Him!" cried Terence, dropping the stock of his Deckard to the ground. "And back to Kaintuckee! Arrah, 'tis a sin to be jokin' before a man has a bit in his sthummick. Bad cess to yere plisantry before breakfast."
"It's shame to you, Ludlow, and your own da-cent wife that hard to come at, by raison of King Strang!" "Augh! thim bloomers! they do be makin' me sthummick sick!" "What hurts you worst," said Ludlow, "is the price you had to pay the Mormons for fish barrels." The mob groaned and hooted. "Wull ye give us out the divil forninst there, or wull ye take a broadside through the windy?"
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