After the funeral, my father struggled through half a page, and it might as well have been Hottentott. 'And what dun they gi'e thee for that, lad?' 'Fifty pounds, father.' 'Fifty pounds!' He was dumbfounded, and looked at mewith shrewd eyes,asif I were a swindler.'Fifty pounds! An'tha's niver done a day's hard work in thy life.'
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