Wood's dwelling,—a plain, substantial, commodious farm-house. "Where did you pick it up?" "I believe I told you; at Yale. When the turnkey, next morning, stepp'd into his room, The sight of the hole in the wall struck him dumb; The sheriff's black bracelets lay strewn on the ground, But the lad that had worn 'em could nowhere be found. You were content, and I came to thrive on your happiness.
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