'" "No, we can't stand that," hiccupped Smith, scarcely able to keep his legs. After all, I fancy that I shall have to apply for a situation as a nursery governess who understands French. As the palm bears nuts perennially, there were always coconut-laden proas making the beach. Then there was Tom Jarrot, the hackney-coachman, who was pitched off the box against yonder curbstone, and broke his leg. Bottles and glasses usurped the place of dishes and plates. Quite trying of him not to be there when he is wanted. A corner could hold the promise of a shelf of dainty crystals, volcanic ices of rainbow colors, or figurines of saints sculpted from horn and bone reenacting their martyrdoms on delicate miniature wooden stages. "Friends!" echoed Kneebone, with a look of dismay.
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