My Mom inherited our house from our Grandma, otherwise they never could have afforded it, not even twenty years ago. With the broken links of the chain, which served him in lieu of more efficient implements, he commenced operations just above the chimney-piece, and soon contrived to pick a hole in the plaster. "Gone," replied the wounded man. All this was the work of a minute. Pews had been brought in and set in two rows before the huge table, covered in white cloth, that formed the altar at the far end. Not a bad man as men go, but he would sell whisky and gin.
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