" "Lord, that's just the lesson I've been expounding! It isn't a question of fear; it's one of propriety. "What does he say?" roared the long drover. Sometimes I think I’ll miss them and I start to cry, but I’m ready to have a life of my own. ’ Trodger frowned, and chewed his lip. Good riddance to bad rubbish. It was a boy baby cooing in swaddling clothes, a baby who had just been born to the butcher's servant across the alley, the maid Isobella who trailed behind, beaming. CHAPTER VI.
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