"Hear me, Jack!" shrieked his mother. Will you find your destiny, I wonder, or will you go through life like so many others—a wanderer, knocking ever at empty doors, homeless to the last? Oh, if one could but find the way to your heart. His idea was to get behind this sustained listlessness. "Well, without immediate care he would have passed out. "Or the street," returned Jack: "mind my words, the prison's not built that can keep me. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.
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