The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating her forehead upon the floor and wailing: Ai, ai! Ai, ai! Spurlock—or Taber, as he called himself—sat slumped in a chair, staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in the confusion for which he was primarily accountable. While this was taking place, another and more serious interruption occurred. "Good-bye, young man; and good luck. " "And you whipped the beast? I passed him. . She would be healthy, too, and vigorous.
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