"I am Owen Wood, at your service. The inn was a military haunt. ” She shook her head. “Stop it!. Boys, at the time of which we write, were attired like men of their own day, or certain charity-children of ours; and the stripling in question was dressed in black plush breeches, and a gray drugget waistcoat, with immoderately long pockets, both of which were evidently the cast-off clothes of some one considerably his senior. Neither of them believed me.
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