‘Danged if I ever hear the like,’ he repeated blankly. You remember that you saw us at the Savoy a few evenings ago?” “Yes. I was—I was a corespondent. With his chisel so fine, tra la! "There!" cried the boy, leaping from the stool, and drawing back a few paces on the bench to examine his performance,—"that'll do. " "And I'm glad your worship's recognition doesn't come too late," observed the Master. I might have told you the truth.
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