On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. Here were imprisoned the fines; and, "perhaps," adds the before-cited authority, "if he behaved himself, an outlawed person might creep in among them. "Oh, I've read that!" Spurlock had heard distinctly enough all of this odd conversation; but until the spinster's reference to the family album, no phrase had been sufficient in strength of attraction to break the trend of his own unhappy thoughts. He knew she had been weeping. Fifty pupils.
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