So, after the dinner was over, Spurlock took her home; and worked far into the night. "He's not my son," rejoined the carpenter. At last his voice came to release her tension. She had first picked up the fiddle back when it was still called a viol, that was how long she had been at it. ‘Now see here, missie. I'm ashamed to say that I was too much terrified to scream out—but ran and hid myself.
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This video was uploaded to practical-tool.shop on 01-07-2024 11:58:26
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