"I call this ere crib the Little-Ease, arter the runaway prentices' cells in Guildhall. ’ ‘Yes, but I’m hanged if I see what your game is. "But if it is thy will to take me from him," she continued, as soon as her emotion permitted her,—"if he must be left an orphan amid strangers, implant, I beseech thee, a mother's feelings in some other bosom, and raise up a friend, who shall be to him what I would have been. For some time he could not stir, but felt sick and exhausted.
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