There was once a philanthropist who dressed with shameful shabbiness and carried pearls in his pocket. His lips were tight drawn. Prom a knot of idlers at a public-house, he learnt that Jonathan Wild had just ridden past, and that his setters were scouring the country in every direction. Stimulated by the promise of something handsome to drink, the man acquitted himself to admiration in the management of his lazy cattle. ” “Don’t be foolish,” he said sharply. 8. ” Sir John’s head bent lower and lower.
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