"My horse has had a fall," replied Jack, assuming to perfection—for he was a capital mimic,—the tones of Quilt Arnold. A film of dust lay upon it; the ink marks were ancient. "Children," said the aunt, first to awake, "be young fools as long as God will permit you. "Let us in," said the Master, rapping his truncheon authoritatively against the boards, "or we'll force an entrance.
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