" "Why, that must be about the time of the Great Storm," rejoined Jackson. On reaching the churchyard, he perceived the melancholy procession descending the hill. Women and men had always flocked to him, covetous of his knowledge, his riches, and if all else failed, his carnal expertise. “Very well,” he said, “I will go. Heaven forbid. “Dear me!” he said. " "Come, jump up," cried Blueskin, mounting his steed, "and I'll soon wisk you to town.
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