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Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870

"Barnaby Rudge: a tale of the Riots of 'eighty"

I believe I shall enlist in your regiment
to-night. The reason I don't do so now is, because I don't want until
to-night, to do what I can't recall. Where shall I find you, this
evening?'
His friend replied with some unwillingness, and after much ineffectual
entreaty having for its object the immediate settlement of the business,
that his quarters would be at the Crooked Billet in Tower Street; where
he would be found waking until midnight, and sleeping until breakfast
time to-morrow.
'And if I do come--which it's a million to one, I shall--when will you
take me out of London?' demanded Joe.
'To-morrow morning, at half after eight o'clock,' replied the serjeant.
'You'll go abroad--a country where it's all sunshine and plunder--the
finest climate in the world.'
'To go abroad,' said Joe, shaking hands with him, 'is the very thing I
want. You may expect me.'
'You're the kind of lad for us,' cried the serjeant, holding Joe's hand
in his, in the excess of his admiration. 'You're the boy to push your
fortune. I don't say it because I bear you any envy, or would take away
from the credit of the rise you'll make, but if I had been bred and
taught like you, I'd have been a colonel by this time.


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