My Mom inherited our house from our Grandma, otherwise they never could have afforded it, not even twenty years ago. “Don’t be an ass, Ferringhall,” he said tersely. “I don’t know how, but I always manage to find a 164 fiddle if there is one around. With his foodle doo! This carpenter he had a wife, The plague and torment of his life, Who, though she did her husband scold, Loved well a woollen-draper bold.
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