My only love is for my poor lost son. At no loss to comprehend that Jack was the individual pointed out by these outcries, two of the nearest of the group made a dash at him. 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.
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