John’s father added cheerfully, “So, do you play any violin?” She balked at the stereotype, but admitted, “Yes, I play violin. ” She replied weakly. ” “I don’t see why I shouldn’t. Wood was an old friend of mine—and I recollect seeing Jack when he was bound 'prentice to him. "Weep on, reprobate," cried the carpenter, a little softened. “Thank you—and good-bye. The doleful procession at once assumed a festive character.
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