Because every mistake you make, for every new mishap, Joe, I take a finger. Boys, at the time of which we write, were attired like men of their own day, or certain charity-children of ours; and the stripling in question was dressed in black plush breeches, and a gray drugget waistcoat, with immoderately long pockets, both of which were evidently the cast-off clothes of some one considerably his senior. Battle, murder, and sudden death—and an old chap like McClintock tuning his piano in the midst of it.
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