For hats that fail and hats that flare; Toppers their universal wear; A man scores always, everywhere. "Well, Jack," said the prize-fighter, in a rough, but friendly voice, and with a cutand-thrust abrupt manner peculiar to himself; "how are you, lad, eh? Sorry to see you here. Then her eyes flashed. She stared out of the paned glass window, watching the trees being blown bare by the gale force.
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