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The ploughmen with the ploughs were returning
from the black (fruitful) soil. A long village like
a charming garden – the Cots were amidst blooming
orchards hidden. The winding smoke ascended to heaven, and
an old church with a high steeple dominated over
the village, the church yard filled with Yew trees
the belfry's bells were heard a mile two leagues off – the bell
which had announced the funerals of five generations.
While there they looked around, John, bent on his
stick asked, 'How it it please you – this our village?
Wiesƚaw house is not far off'. But Halina
looked on one spot alone. The heaving bosom –
opened lips – announced the intensity of her reverence.
The joy of some remembrance felt pressed hard upon
her heart. She would not speak for in such a state
all attempts to breathe were choked. A little further
was a hedge & division & opposite a comely cot the stone
cross was raised bending by years. Near it willows &
around it green turf. Thither the children of the village
in their Sunday sports – Then Halina fell on her knees
clapped her hands & said to John 'Almighty God', here
Identifier: | JB/110/100/003 "JB/" can not be assigned to a declared number type with value 110.
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110 |
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100 |
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003 |
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collectanea |
4 |
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recto |
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sir john bowring |
joseph coles |
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jeremy bentham; walter coulson |
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36090 |
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