The above description of —the great Figg, by the prize-fighting swains Sole monarch acknowledged of Mary'bone plains— may sound somewhat tame by the side of the glowing account given of him by his gallant biographer, who asserts that "there was a majesty shone in his countenance, and blazed in his actions, beyond all I ever saw;" but it may, possibly, convey a more accurate notion of his personal appearance. Norris entered the room, followed by Father Spencer. . “I don’t see there’s any getting away from the fact that you and I love each other,” he said, slowly. A crutch, with a silver handle, stood by her side, proving the state of extreme debility to which she was reduced. “It’s because I mean to send it back altogether,” she said.
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