One’s got to be a better man than one’s father, or what is the good of successive generations? Life is rebellion, or nothing. . Pausing with the intention of turning back, he glanced in the direction of the village church, the tower of which could just be seen through the trees. Wearied at length with thinking on the past, and terrified by the prospect of the future, he threw himself on the straw with which the cage was littered, and endeavoured to compose himself to slumber. Take the one that struck him at this moment.
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