He was not quite sure whether, after all, he had been wise. "Hear me," he cried, restraining himself with difficulty. Then Mike came along. As it is, I'm not sorry for the blunder. At this moment, the landlord of the Crown, a jovial-looking stout personage, with a white apron round his waist, issued from the house, bearing a large wooden bowl filled with ale, which he offered to Jack, who instantly rose to receive it.
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