At this moment, the landlord of the Crown, a jovial-looking stout personage, with a white apron round his waist, issued from the house, bearing a large wooden bowl filled with ale, which he offered to Jack, who instantly rose to receive it. One keeps rules in order to be one’s self. “You will write to me, I am sure—and from the date of your letter I trust most earnestly that I may come back to my old place as “Your devoted friend, “WALTER BRENDON. “Fearful old fogey! I can’t imagine any sister of yours putting up with him for a moment. "No," replied Jack. " "Oh! name it. It creaked slightly. I can't run in these heavy fetters.
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