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1 million dollar bank note4/30/2023 I could hardly keep my wits together in the presence of that food, but as I was not asked to sample it, I had to bear my trouble as best I could. They had just finished their breakfast, and the sight of the remains of it almost overpowered me. They sent away the servant, and made me sit down. I was admitted by a gorgeous flunkey, and shown into a sumptuous room where a couple of elderly gentlemen were sitting. I was just getting desperate enough to brave all the shame, and to seize it, when a window behind me was raised, and a gentleman spoke out of it, saying: This same thing kept happening and happening, and I couldn't get the pear. But every time I made a move to get it some passing eye detected my purpose, and of course I straightened up then, and looked indifferent, and pretended that I hadn't been thinking about the pear at all. My mouth watered for it, my stomach craved it, my whole being begged for it. I stopped, of course, and fastened my desiring eye on that muddy treasure. During the next twenty-four I went without food and shelter.Ībout ten o'clock on the following morning, seedy and hungry, I was dragging myself along Portland Place, when a child that was passing, towed by a nurse-maid, tossed a luscious big pear-minus one bite-into the gutter. This money fed and sheltered me twenty-four hours. When I stepped ashore in London my clothes were ragged and shabby, and I had only a dollar in my pocket. It was a long and stormy voyage, and they made me work my passage without pay, as a common sailor. Just at nightfall, when hope was about gone, I was picked up by a small brig which was bound for London. One day I ventured too far, and was carried out to sea. My time was my own after the afternoon board, Saturdays, and I was accustomed to put it in on a little sail-boat on the bay. I was alone in the world, and had nothing to depend upon but my wits and a clean reputation but these were setting my feet in the road to eventual fortune, and I was content with the prospect. When I was twenty-seven years old, I was a mining-broker's clerk in San Francisco, and an expert in all the details of stock traffic. Uncle Tom's Cabin - Harriet Beecher Stowe. The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett.The Red Badge of Courage - Stephen Crane.The Scarlet Letter - Nathaniel Hawthorne.
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