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And you haven't see nobody, nor you won't, not if I can help it." He broke off and looked at me with an expression of candour. "Mind you," he said, "I'm not uffish. To 'n ornery gentleman of the road or what you will I'm not, if so be he's the necessary. I'd take a letter like another. But for you, no fear. Not that I've my knife into you.
"The uffish spectral gleaming of that wild resounding clang Came hooting o'er the margin of the dusky moors that hang Like palls of inky darkness where the hoarse, weird raven calls, And the bhang-drunk Hindoo staggers on and on until he falls." Isn't that Well, now, isn't that just the most fearful mess of stuff that was ever ground out of a lunatic asylum? "'It's the awfullest I ever saw.
He took his vorpal sword in hand: Long time the manxome foe he sought So rested he by the Tumtum tree, And stood awhile in thought. And as in uffish thought he stood, The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame, Came whiffling through the tulgey wood, And burbled as it came! One, two! One, two! And through and through The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
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