I shall know what to say to him when he comes. We had better have it over. "Do you call neglecting your work, and singing flash songs nothing? Zounds! you incorrigible rascal, many a master would have taken you before a magistrate, and prayed for your solitary confinement in Bridewell for the least of these offences. To be complete, my vengeance must be tardy. Fifty sent home.
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