“I was sick of the make-believe. They began to wrestle fiercely. Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. Keep his arms down. Drummond, who had been about to speak, refrained. Many’s the young ’un I’ve seen get hisself into just such a knuckleheaded mess all on account of a pretty wench. What of that?" "Vot 'o that!" echoed Sharples, peevishly: "Everythin'. "Nor any one else, I suspect," answered Ireton, winking significantly. Anyhow, it were me as got you down to the wetnurse. You have thought it worth while to take some considerable pains to resolve for yourself my sister’s identity. One chance in a thousand, and that would be the girl. Luck.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIyMi4zMi42NyAtIDIyLTA5LTIwMjQgMDY6MjY6NTIgLSAxMTIyNTQ2MTM1
This video was uploaded to thenextfuture.net on 20-09-2024 21:42:18
Related resources: Ref1 - Ref2 - Ref3 - Ref4 - Ref5 - Ref6 - Ref7 - Ref8 - Ref9 - Ref10 - Ref11 - Ref12 - Ref13