"The pocket-book you prigged contained the letters I wanted. All of us were fussy, colicky babies from what she tells me. Jolly nose! the bright rubies that garnish thy tip Are dug from the mines of canary; And to keep up their lustre I moisten my lip With hogsheads of claret and sherry. “I will not rob you of your coffee, most dutiful of sisters!” she exclaimed.
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