"Hark 'ee, Ben," said the old sailor, knocking the ashes from his pipe upon the hob; "you may try, but dash my timbers if you'll ever cross the Thames to-night. "What a wonderful colour!" she exclaimed. The place was gloomy, with its darkly panelled walls, but it was sparsely furnished. They went to the gate and stopped there, gabbed with their men, and didn’t even dismount. E. I feel a mixture of beast and uncle. America, the land of rosy apples and snowstorms, beckoned, and she wanted to fly thitherward.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDEzLjU5LjEzLjIxMCAtIDIzLTA2LTIwMjQgMDY6MDE6MDkgLSAxNTM0ODUzODAz
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