" Ruth had read from page to page in "The Child's Garden of Verse," generally unfamiliar to the admirers of Stevenson. "How go you like your quarters, sauce-box?" asked Sharples, in a jeering tone. "I give you all of my genius, and you say—'Get out!' I am some kind of a dog. Ever hear of the djinn in the bottle? Like enough. "Well, he's a pretty fellow at all events," observed Mrs.
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