A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. CHAPTER XXIII. " "How long have I been in bed?" "A week. . Having drunk as much as he thought prudent, and thanked his unknown friend for his attention, Jack again lay down on the straw, and indulged himself with another nap, intending to get up as soon as it was perfectly dark. Of course Ruth was not aware that in this same volume there were lyrics known the world over. "Allow him that small grace," cried Wood.
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