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"Lucy, my dear," exclaimed Miss Acton, "play 'Now, Goody, Please to Moderate,' or 'My Lodging is on the Cold Ground,' or 'Sally in our Alley.' I do not care which. They are all very beautiful, and I know no song, brother, that carries me back like 'Sally in our Alley.' Do you remember how finely our father used to sing it? He was at Dr Burney's one night, sir," said she, talking to Mr Lawrence, "when a famous Italian singer of that day—who was it now?—she was as yellow as a guinea, and her hoops were so large there were many doors she could not pass through—who was it now? But no matter; after my father had sung she stepped over to him, and curtsying as though she would sit before him, she said: 'I have often heard this song sung and thought nothing of it. But now, sir, I shall ever regard it as the loveliest composition in English music.'" "Sir, there is but one Lucy Acton in this country, and no man who has set eyes on her is ever likely to forget her beauty and sweetness." Anson nodded. "I'll be here," he promised..
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"The Devil," said the Admiral, "is very bountiful to his servants in his gifts of opportunity." He turned abruptly away to follow the wagons but Billy's voice stopped him. Scarcely had the words been received by the ears on deck, when he shouted: "Two more sail, just astarn of the two first." "Then Jim he begged him not to do that. 'We'll pay you whatever's right fer your horse, sir,' he says, but Johnston jest snorted. 'Where would you get fifty dollars!' he says, but Jim, he nudged me to keep quiet, an' said: 'I've got fifty dollars of my very own, right here, sir. We'll buy your horse an' take chances on findin' him, if you'll sell him to us.'.
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