"I can never get poor Tom's last look out of my head, as he stood in the Stone-Hall at Newgate, after his irons had been knocked off, unless I manage to stupify myself somehow. Mountains out of molehills and armies out of windmills; and you'll tire yourself in one direction and shatter yourself in the other. "Do you hear that! We are not wholly at fault. Maggot. 1. II.
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