Mountains out of molehills and armies out of windmills; and you'll tire yourself in one direction and shatter yourself in the other. But none ever puts his foot on this boat. Hers was beauty on a large scale no doubt; but it was beauty, nevertheless: and the carpenter thought her eyes as bright, her complexion as blooming, and her figure (if a little more buxom) quite as captivating as when he led her to the altar some twenty years ago. ’ ‘What are you about now, child?’ demanded Martha apprehensively.
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