Say I can't dress a window, you thundering old Humbug, he said, and hurled the huckaback at his master. He followed this up by pitching first a blanket, then an armful of silesia, then a window support out of the window into the shop.
Say I can't dress a window, you thundering old Humbug,
Someone stood on a string of bladderwrack and made it pop, and some distance away the tide was turning.
Besides, is not the pay-train from Leeds disgorging a clutch of poets every lunch time, to read authentic texts aloud?
Aspiring pop stars lined up for hours just to audition.
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