The aunt rushed over to her nephew, knelt and wrapped him in her arms. For some days we shall be very idle there among the trees and rocks. Of all crafts,—and it was the only craft his poor father, who, to do him justice, was one of the best workmen that ever handled a saw or drove a nail, could never understand,—of all crafts, I say, to be an honest man is the master-craft. "You poor child!" said Prudence.
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