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"Think you could ride a race, Dave?" asked Dad. "Yairs," answered Dave, without taking his eyes off the fire, or his chin from his palms "could, I suppose, if I'd a pair o' lighter boots 'n these." Again they reflected. Joe triumphantly held up the mutilated form of a murdered mouse and invited the household to "Look!" No one heeded him. "Would your Mother's go on you?"
"How much," he at last asked, "did Johnson get for those skins?" "Which?" Dave answered. "Bears or kangaroos?" "Bears." "Five bob, was n't it? Six for some." "What, A-PIECE?" "Yairs." "Why, God bless my soul, what have we been thinking about? FIVE SHILLINGS? Are you sure?" "Yairs, rather." What asses we HAVE been, to be sure." "That's all right enough," Dave interrupted, "but "
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