My foster mother, Janine, wasn’t much fatter. She is the image of what I was like, and she has a better voice. At the same moment a martial flourish, proceeding from cow's horns, tin canisters filled with stones, bladders and cat-gut, with other sprightly, instruments, was struck up, and, enlivened by this harmonious accompaniment, the troop reached its destination in the best possible spirits for an encounter. " "Take care you don't fall into it yourself," returned Jackson, with a slight sneer.
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