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"But the sleeping berths are very little, and I am certain that the motion of the ship——" She shook her head and smiled, and then saying, "Good morning, Mr Eagle. If my aunt has a remedy for the rheumatism I will send it you," she returned the way she had come, mounted the steps, gained the bridge, and proceeded home. He picked up something that glittered in the firelight, and held it up for his chum's inspection. Caleb Spencer, proprietor of the Twin Oaks store, paused at his garden gate to light his corncob pipe. The next three hours would be his busy time. The farmers of Scotia would come driving in for their mail and to make necessary purchases of his wares. His pipe alight to his satisfaction, Caleb crossed the road, then stood still in his tracks to fasten his admiring gaze on the rambling, unpainted building which was his pride and joy. He had built that store himself. With indefatigable pains and patience he had fashioned it to suit his mind. Every evening, just at this after-supper hour, he stood still for a time to admire it, as he was doing now..
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Conrad
"Well, go on. What's all this got to do with whisky?" "I admit the gallantry of his action with the Pegase. It was as brilliant as a hundred other actions between single ships, not one of which nevertheless brought the victor an earldom. What made Jervis a Lord? Was it his own, or the genius of Nelson? That manœuvre of the Commodore on the 14th won the battle. We took four ships from the enemy, and two of them were captured by Nelson. But I dislike St Vincent for opinions which he is at no pains to disguise. He objects to the education of the poor." "Humph! It does beat all what foolish ideas them big guns take. Think of them two comin' all the way from Cleveland here just to shoot ducks. Old man Swanson knows his book, too. He charges them sports awful prices; nine dollars a week each and makes 'em sleep two in a bed at that; and every fall that old ramblin' house of his is chuck kerbang full of shooters." The building held all the unmistakable odors of a school room. The smell of chalk dust, mouldy bread crusts, mice, dirty slates and musty books rose up to smite the arrivals. Four rows of pine seats, blackened with ink-daubs and deeply scarred by pocket-knives, ran the entire length of the building. A big box stove stood in the centre of the room, its wavering pipe supported by wires from the ceiling..
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