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A KNIGHT OF THE SHEEP
    Ao tain lives “a strong farmer,” a knig from one of t fig one man t s o deserve t  ain can rival e and abrupt in s, and   hand.

    One day I -maid announced a certain Mr. O’Donnell. A sudden silence fell upon t t daug severely to o come in and dine.” t out, and tly relieved, and said, “ dine ,” said ter, “and ask o t finistle room  and se to beer turned to me and said, “Mr. O’Donnell is tax-gat year axes, and my fat o t t  deal. ‘I eac tect its officers’; but my fat ness. At last my fat tired, and sorry too, and said   back remembrance of t to s tax-gat I ed t ure like O’Donnell; and o make my fato  time he came.”

    S out to see a neigered too tly getting on to tax again, for I could o and fro. I opened t sigentions, and asked me if I kne into to find it and get it out, looking at truck face of tax-gat type.  like , successful man, but rat find no resting-place upon tless of tock of treasure lies buried under t h many heads.” “Yes, sur,”

    of a line of princes.”

    e to talking of many commonplace t once toss up   last t old tax-gat up to go, and my friend said, “I oget year.” “No, no,”  year.” “I too  sons,” said te a gentle voice. “But your sons  like my son.”

    And ted, ter s, and  cast bet not ed, but o an angry discussion of t pity for all t t it out, and would now o record.

    t of tory, for no soul t  of blood and clay can surpass  once beaten; and tale of   stood against to s any cause.  tood up, and my friend said, “All is not rig in o
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