The owner of the grist mill, Smith Bowen, was a patriot, but his father was thought to have Tory tendencies, and when they came to burn the mill he ran out waving his hands and crying, Spare the mill for I am a King's man.
Spare the mill for I am a King's man.
Here three aspiring young seamstresses—diplomas in dressmaking from the People’s College of Zimbabwe hung on the wall—bicker and scowl at each other.
Balloon fishing from the rock when the winds are correct can be a very productive way to target big mackerel and tuna, however the large number of sharks means that you will spend plenty of time battling unstoppable noahs between decent macks.
[…] they [the sounds of an echo] next strike the ultimate secondary object, then the penultimate and antepenultimate; […]
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