“What a hideous
repertoire! If you are in earnest about wanting to earn money, why on earth don’t
you accept an engagement here?”
“An engagement?” she queried. It was Ramage, the occupant of the big
house at the end of the Avenue. You’re a piss-poor liar, John. On the day he carried the manuscript to Copeley's he brought back a packet of
letters, magazines, and newspapers. E. He was pretty successful in Manchester,—a town which
may be said to have been the head-quarters of the disaffected. “I knew I should
have died!” She went fast into a state of shock. 1 with
active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
Gutenberg-tm License. "What!" she exclaimed, almost choked with passion,—"I advised you to burthen
yourself with that idle and good-for-nothing pauper, who'm you ought rather to
send to the workhouse than maintain at your own expense, did I! I advised you
to take him as an apprentice; and, so far from getting the regular fee with him, to
give him a salary? I advised you to feed him, and clothe him, and treat him like
his betters; to put up with his insolence, and wink at his faults? I counselled all
this, I suppose. ”
“It scarcely gives me a chance,” Mr. Here was a poor half-naked
creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand,
seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne.
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