If it wasn’t for the fear that after all—but we won’t think of that. Crack went the whip, and away floundered the heavy vehicle through the deep ruts of the ill-kept road, or rather lane, (for it was little better,) which, then, led across Southampton Fields. "I suppose I was mistaken," returned Gay. ” “But it is too late,” she declared. “Who’ll mind the baby nar?” was one of the night’s inspirations, and very frequent.
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