Heedless, however, of the consequences, he pursued his task. Wood!" "Leave go!" thundered Blueskin—"leave go—you'd better!"—and he held the sack as firmly as he could with one hand, while with the other he searched for his knife. “Ssh!” said her mother, and then added, “A little natural feeling, dear. “What did it matter?” she cried. Many’s the young ’un I’ve seen get hisself into just such a knuckleheaded mess all on account of a pretty wench.
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