Harpagan
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Harpagan

A quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.

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Sweet Pomeloa

 

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MISS WHITE’S STORY

The story, as Miss White told it, was not unusual in that part of the city, but to John Dean there was every element of newness in it.

He listened without interruption as the story unfolded itself.

Mrs. Marsh, Ted’s mother, had had a hard time of it. Bill Marsh had married her eighteen years ago. Bill was a good mechanic, but after about six years of happiness things began to go wrong. He lost his position and at that time work was not easy to get. Day after day he had searched for something to do. Discouraged, he had taken to drink. Then there was a day when Bill did not return. In all these years Mrs. Marsh had never heard of him. She felt he was dead, yet even that she did not know.

It was a hard struggle afterward. Sewing and washing, early and late, and many a day she went hungry, so that the two children could eat. The mother often spoke of how Ted, when eight years old, had gone out one afternoon and had not returned until seven o’clock. Without a word he had put fifteen cents on the table and then had turned to eat. He showed by the way he ate how hungry he was. After the meal was over, he explained how he had made up his mind to support the family, and so he had bought some papers; the fifteen cents was profit. His capital, also some extra pennies, was intact, so that he could buy more papers.

 

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meta.harpagan

Mateusz Machalski

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+48 666 356 584
mateusz@capitalics.wtf