Immediately the "boy" went forth with his paper lantern, repeating a cry as he ran—warning to clear the way. I’m making a mess of my life— unless you come in and take it. I should have known at a glance if it was. Spurlock's vision was oddly of the past. " As he said this, the carpenter patted the cheek of the little object of his benevolent professions, and, in so doing, unintentionally aroused him from his slumbers.
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