Bertram is certainly well off for a cadet of even a Baronet's family. By the time he is four or five and twenty he will have seven hundred a year, and nothing to do for it.
For men be now tratlers and tellers of tales; What tidings at Totnam, what newis in Wales, What ſhippis are ſailing to Scalis Malis? And all is not worth a couple of nut ſhalis.
I'm not handsome in the classical sense. The eyes droop, the mouth is crooked, the teeth aren't straight, the voice sounds like a Mafioso pallbearer, but somehow it all works.
Not spankings...donkeypunches...at least let him get laid. It's his birthday.
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