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Armour, Rebecca Agatha, 1846?-1891

"Marguerite Verne"


"A nice commissariat," said a second.
"Why didn't you wait until you came to pick up our bones?" shouted
another, with force sufficient to show that starvation had not yet
attacked the camp.
"You're all right yet, I guess," said Herbert Rutherford, reining up
the pretty and spirited animal beside an old hut that served as
dining-hall for the party.
"Herb, say, hope you didn't forget the corkscrew this time," shouted
a voice from behind an old stump.
"Caesar and Anthony!" was the exclamation as the smiling maidens and
their attendants came in sight.
"Josie Jordan!" cried a trio and the congratulations that followed
need not be repeated.
A jollier party never fished in that well-known brook and better
appetites never were known than when the table was thrice set and
thrice cleared of the most tempting dishes that ever graced a
festive board.
"Who would have ever thought of meeting you here, old bookworm?"
exclaimed a happy-looking youth hailing from a shipper's office on
the South Wharf.
"Well sir, I would as soon have expected to see old Herodotus
stalking along with his wonderful Nine," roared another, slapping
Mr. Lawson with more force than elegance.


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