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A small lick, I should think.
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My boy, I shall do better than that.
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Not only will I beckon you to my table,
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but as we feast, I shall treat you to an excerpt
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from chapter 127,
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which tells the gripping tale of how only a few days ago,
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I found that very handsome bell rope
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that you were admiring
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just hanging over a thistle bush.
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Thistle bush?
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Or was it a gorse bush?
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No. No. It was definitely a thistle bush.