Having once more got into the chimney, he climbed to a level with the ward above, and recommenced operations as vigorously as before. In Wych Street Owen Wood did dwell; A carpenter he was by trade, And money, I believe, he made. If you ride past the church, and mount the hill, you'll come to Neasdon and then you'll not have above half a mile to go. There was a trader—a man who bought copra and pearls. They had much to talk about, or rather Miss Prudence had. ‘Knowed it the instant I set eyes on her. .
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