" Ideas are never born; they are suggested; they are planted seeds. Standing on tiptoe, on a joint-stool, placed upon the bench, with his back to the door, and a clasp-knife in his hand, this youngster, instead of executing his appointed task, was occupied in carving his name upon a beam, overhead. “What’s the objection?” “I suppose she ought to know?” said Gwen to her mother, trying to alter the key of the conversation. At length, however, she threw herself off; and Jack carefully guiding the rope she landed in safety.
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