" So she told him the adventure of the two beachcombers in the typhoon, and how they became regenerated by their magnificent courage. "If Jack would come to my house, I'd contrive to hide him," remarked a buxom dame. " Blueskin, meanwhile, having drained and replenished his glass, commenced chaunting a snatch of a ballad:— Once on a time, as I've heard tell. I don’t play anything.
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