If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page. "Eh-day! what's this?" cried Wood, looking up from beneath his spectacles. "Stop a minute," cried Jack, detaining his mistresses. Let’s go on climbing now. The Ragged Edge. ” “Upon my word,” he declared, “you are right. Her hair was gathered up behind, in a sort of pad, according to the then prevailing mode; and she wore a muslin cap, and pinners with crow-foot edging.
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