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CHAPTER XVIII A BATTLE ON A SMALL SCALE

āđ‚āļ›āļĢ āđ‚āļĄ āļŠāļąāđˆ āļ™ āđ€āļāļĄ āļ­āļ­āļ™āđ„āļĨāļ™āđŒ "Here, sir," replied the steward, coming into the cabin and gazing with astonishment at the negro. "This man has done a good work; take care of him, give him a good breakfast, and see that no one insults him." "You will take the command now, Mr. Flint," said he when he saw the executive officer watching him with the most intense interest. "What do you think of it, Dr. Connelly?" he asked, turning to the surgeon. "He was always sea-sick when he first went out, and it appears that he has not yet got over the habit. He was so badly off on one occasion that my father thought of taking him on shore, and sending him back to Mobile by land." "Do you think any one came into the house?" 23 asked Mrs. Passford, though with but little of the woman's terror that such a statement might have caused. "What is your age?"

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