"Yep, an' everythin' else is jest like you said, too, only the red streaks have gone from above the trees now."
Book of Kemet, "Glory be! It's find ye alone I do," he spoke in rich Irish brogue. "It's trill ye a chune I did from the copse, yonder, so's to soften the hard heart of ye, Caleb. It's dhry I am as a last-year's chip, an' me little jug do be pinin' fer a refillin'."
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Book of Kemet, Video
Book of Kemet
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Book of Kemet In silence they made their way across the clearing to the road. "Say, Bill," said Maurice, as they paused to rest on the top rail of the fence, "do you 'spose we best tell our dads about seein' them men?".
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