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"Fact," cried O'Dule, angrily now. "Don't ye be comin' to me, a siventh son av a siventh son, wid such nonsinse. Faith, if yon worthless rabbit-fut kin do phwat ye claim, why not prove ut t' me now?" "And what's your name?" "Well, he seems to be in earnest about it. I re'lly don't think he'll drink any more. He says that he's got his tin whistle an' his cat an' don't need whisky. He's changed wonderful, there's no mistake about that. Ma saw him yesterday. He was dressed in his Prince Albert an' plug hat, an' Ma says he was that changed she didn't know him at first.".
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Conrad
Just about this time the steward Paul came down the companion steps with the cabin key which he had received from Mr Lawrence. He took no notice of the two men seated at the table, but stepped to Lucy's door, knocked, paused, inserted the key, and passed in. He emerged in less than two minutes holding the tray that was covered literally with broken victuals, and locking the door was about to step up the companion ladder when Mr Pledge said: "Who've you got locked up in that there cabin?" "Will we foller 'em, Bill?" asked Maurice eagerly. One bright morning in April in that memorable year 1805, Captain Charles Acton, R.N. (retired), stood on his lawn in front of the house watching a gardener who was at work at a flower-bed. He was a slightly-built but tall, very gentleman-like man, one of the last in a crowd to be picked out as a seafarer. He was pale, his nose aquiline, lips thin, and the expression of the mouth firm. He was dressed in a frill shirt, loose cravat of white cambric, red-striped waistcoat, long green coat with a high collar and small cuffs, tight breeches to the ankle buttoned to the middle of the thigh, and top-boots; a rather low-crowned, broad-brimmed hat sat somewhat cocked on his head. His hair was long, without powder, and tied a little way down the back in a sort of tail. "Oh, I'm so glad you came, Billy," she said. "You can help me decorate uncle's grave.".
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