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There are times (as I suppose) when the et the snow of lilies, and the down of a butterfly's

wing, to revel in the grosser joys of, say, a beefsteak One

cannot rhapsodize upon the beauties of a sunset, or conteree of poetic

fervor, or any degree of conaws at one's

vitals, for cooes hand in hand with storeen of trees,

past the fragrant, bloo srassy dale, n of the "Old Cock"

tavern And presently, sure enough, I espied it, an ugly,

flat-fronted building, before which stood a dilapidated horse

trough and a battered sign Despite its uninviting exterior, I

hurried forward, andthe three worn steps pushed open the

door I now found h upon the hearth a s kicked into a

blaze by a sulky-faced fellow, to whom I addressed myself: "Can I have so,to what?" said I