He got out in much the same way from the Gatehouse,—stole the keys, and passed through a room where I was sitting half-asleep in a chair. I shall take to him as nat'ral as if he were my own flesh and blood afore long. . There are no funerals among the poor, only burials. But his treasured dream lay shattered at his feet. I throw up work—everything! I just teach in one school, one good school, three days a week.
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