He shrieked with agony, and clung with desperate tenacity to the roughened stones. The heroism of two beach combers had saved all on board and their own manhood as well. He never cries nor frets, as children generally do, but lies at my bosom, or on my knee, as quiet and as gentle as you see him now. “And now, look at us! See what we have become. “Great!” Cathy squealed. A remittance man.
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