We have seen pitted cheeks, which we would not exchange for dimples and a satin skin. At this terrible juncture, Jack maintained his composure,—a smile played upon his face before the cap was drawn over it,—and the last words he uttered were, "My poor mother! I shall soon join her!" The rope was then adjusted, and the cart began to move. She would rend him limb from limb like a fiend if only she could move.
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