She had been built for canvas and oil-lamps, and this new thingumajig that kept her nose snoring at eight knots when normally she was able to boil along at ten, and these unblinking things they called lamps (that neither smoked nor smelled), irked and threatened to ruin her temper. “Glaciers?” she said. Since she was only seventeen when she had them, she didn’t deal with it very well. . Then came the javelin-men, walking four abreast, and lastly, a long line of constables, marching in the same order. One is always familiar with the business of one’s neighbours. McClintock's astonishment merged into a state of mild hypnosis.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDUyLjE1LjExNi41OSAtIDAyLTA2LTIwMjQgMDk6NTE6MTMgLSAxMzM0NDc1NjUz
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