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Show One Count Too Much. Daughter I cannot marry that man. He's bad. Mother My dear, think how very, very rich Daughter In his youth he killed a man. Mother Youth can be forgiven many follies. Think how rich 3 Daughter Once he stole $40,000, and his father had to pay it. Mother That was all hushed up. think how rich Daughter He's an awful drunkard. Mother Many gentlemen drink a little, lit-tle, my dear, and I'm sure he can afford af-ford Daughter He saya you are old and awkward. Mother The wretch! He shan't see you again. N. Y. Weekly. . |