"Farewell!" blubbered the executioner's wife, pressing his hand to her lips. Sheppard heaved a deep sigh, and opened her eyes, which now looked larger, blacker, and more melancholy than ever. Dese ere not schouts, as you faind, but jonkers on a vrolyk; and if dey'd chanshed to keel de vrow Sheppard's pet lamb, dey'd have done her a servish, by shaving it from dat unpleasant complaint, de hempen fever, with which its laatter days are threatened, and of which its poor vader died. Saw the villain through the keyhole.
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This video was uploaded to practical-tool.shop on 10-06-2024 16:34:57
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