With gravel stuck to my cheek, I pulled myself back in the car, looked in the rearview mirror, and saw, looking back at me, a young man with a pale face and a purple bag under each eye. I looked pitiful […]
I was now entering on my fifteenth year, when the worſt of ills befell me in the loſs of my tender fond parents, who were both carried off by the smallpox, within a few days of each other; […].
After this conflict pro-independence agitation temporarily died down.
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