Women are made like the potter’s vessels —either for worship or contumely, and are withal fragile vessels. Winds returned, the gardens withered, and roses would not bloom. " Amazed at the boy's assurance, Wood left off boxing his ears for a moment, and, looking at him steadfastly, said in a grave tone, "Jack, Jack, you'll come to be hanged!" "Better be hanged than hen-pecked," retorted the lad with a malicious grin.
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