I swore to hang you two years ago, but I deferred my purpose. Spurlock remained where he was until the sail became an infinitesimal speck in the distance. It towered up high above the level of the pass, thousands of feet, still, shining, and white, and below, thousands of feet below, was a floor of little woolly clouds. The moon had arisen, and everything could be as plainly distinguished as during the day. “Are you going on again this winter with that scientific work of yours? It’s an instance of heredity, I suppose. The wastrel, the ne'er-do-well, who went mostly nobly to a fine end.
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This video was uploaded to jandlonmark.org on 01-07-2024 14:00:17
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