"Why did I want it under my pillow?" he asked. At this terrible juncture, Jack maintained his composure,—a smile played upon his face before the cap was drawn over it,—and the last words he uttered were, "My poor mother! I shall soon join her!" The rope was then adjusted, and the cart began to move. She found a clean sweatshirt and soft pajama pants, glad to trade the wet for the dry. You tonic my liver and you tonic my soul.
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