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—The general who gives an order for wholesale carnage never sleeps a wink the less soundly for the midnight groans of his victims, and we should deride him as a coward if he did. "Owen, Owen," pursued Mrs. You’re mine. If, around noon, a coconut proa landed, the boys made no effort to unload. Wood's displeasure; and he was the more readily induced to do this, as the conversation began to turn upon his own affairs. " "Well said, Jack," cried Figg. “There is one thing I must concentrate on at the moment,” she told herself, “and that is how to pay my next week’s bill to Mrs.

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