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Various

"The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 14, No. 82, August, 1864"

He was muffled in
rags, and wore a little cap on his head. This he removed with his left
hand, exposing a little battered tea-kettle of a bald pate, as with
smiling politeness he reached out the other trembling hand to shake that
of the stranger.
"Welcome, Sah! Sarvant, Sah!"
He bowed and smiled again, and the hospitable duty was performed; after
which he put on his cap and shuffled back into his corner, greatly
marvelled at by the gazing beggar-boy.
The girls and their mother now bestirred themselves to get their guest
something to eat. The tin tea-pot was set on the stove, and hash was
warmed up in the spider. In the mean time William somewhat ruefully took
off his wet Sunday coat, and hung it to dry by the stove, interpolating
affectionate regrets for the soiled garment with the narration of his
adventure.
"It was the merest chance my coming that way," he explained; "for I had
got started up the other street, when something says to me, 'Go by
Gingerford's! go by Judge Gingerford's!' so I altered my course, and the
result was, just as I got against the Judge's gate I was precipitated
over this here person.


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