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Billy laughed. "Come along as far as the clearin', Harry," he invited, "and play us a tune that'll cheer Maurice up, will you?" "'Gimme the money,' says Johnston. "A small convoy, sir, I think," said Captain Weaver..
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All eyes switched from the teacher to Fatty Watland. Fatty, his face very red, rose slowly and stood before the frowning Mr. Johnston. It has been said that Old Harbour House stood. The house takes its place as a beauty of the past. On Christmas Eve 1832, fire reduced it to a few blackened walls. All through the long night the flames made a wild, grand show; sea and land were illuminated for leagues and leagues. Out of the ashes of the beautiful building sprang that commonplace phoenix, the local poet, who celebrated the one tradition of Old Harbour Town in a copy of rhymes, of which the first verse should be found imprinted on the title-page of this book. What Mrs. Keeler might have done is not known, for just at this juncture a high-pitched voice came to her from the garden gate. "Get hold of him, Missus Keeler an' wring his black neck." He leaped from the fence. "Good bye," he called back over his shoulder. "I hear old Cherry bawlin' fer her drink.".
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