Solomon Smith seemed to be Mr. She had been built for canvas and oil-lamps, and this new thingumajig that kept her nose snoring at eight knots when normally she was able to boil along at ten, and these unblinking things they called lamps (that neither smoked nor smelled), irked and threatened to ruin her temper. Neither of these wards had beds, and the unfortunate inmates were obliged to take their rest on the oaken floor.
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