"Hold!" cried Kneebone, flinging down the packets; "they are nothing to me. "I have just parted from one," said Trenchard. His eyes looked a little bloodshot to her; his face had lost something of its ruddy freshness. Of all crafts,—and it was the only craft his poor father, who, to do him justice, was one of the best workmen that ever handled a saw or drove a nail, could never understand,—of all crafts, I say, to be an honest man is the master-craft.
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This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 17-09-2024 12:30:47
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