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"Heads up, young master, never say die! and wi' the larks and the

throstles a-singing away so inspiring too--Lord lovehead, perceived

a very se

pack at his feet, a very large hunk of bread and cheese in his hand,

and with a book open upon his knee

"Listen to that theer lark," said theupwards with the

knife he held

"Well?" said Barnabas, a trifle haughtily perhaps

"There's music for ye; there's j'y I never hear a lark but it takes

me back to London--to Lime'us, to Giles's Rents, down by the River"

"Pray, why?" inquired Barnabas, still a trifle haughtily

"Because it's so different; there ain't much j'y, no, nor yet music

in Giles's Rents, down by the River"

"Rather an unpleasant place!" said Barnabas

"Unpleasant, young sir I should say so--the worst place in the

world--but listen to that theer blessed lark; there's a woice for ye;

there's music with a capital M; an' I've read as they cooks and

eats 'eentlemen--ah, an' ladies, too!"