"My own father!" Queerly the room and its objects receded and vanished; and there intervened a series of mental pictures that so long as she lived would ever be recurring. " "Poh, poh, my dear! Mr. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. “Why, it’s David!” he exclaimed. ’ ‘Tchah! Better a doubtful welcome here than a confounded French convent. And, as he was about to put himself into a posture of defence, his mother clasped him in her arms. "The shoulder-clappers!" added a lady, who, in her anxiety to join the party, had unintentionally substituted her husband's nether habiliments for her own petticoats.
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