He had him removed from the Condemned Hold, stripped of his fine apparel, clothed in the most sordid rags, loaded with additional fetters, and thrust into the Stone Hold,—already described as the most noisome cell in the whole prison. Sweatshirts and sweatpants were in for a while but they’re out now. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. And though I say it that shouldn't say it, no man can tie a better knot. Raising him in his arms, Jonathan passed the rope round his body, and in this way the poor boy was drawn up without difficulty.
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