" "Never mind," returned the stranger, dismounting; "you'll recollect me by and by, I've no doubt. "Well, you never can tell," he continued, lamely. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. Jack was almost afraid of speaking; but at length he summoned courage to call out "Mother!" "Who's there?" asked a faint voice from the bed. She hoped the lights would become hot enough to melt her into the floor. My Mom is hell bent on having the biggest, most beautiful house in the neighborhood, my college education be damned. . All the influences about her worked with her own predisposition and against all the traditions of her home and upbringing to deal with the facts of life in an unabashed manner.
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