He had learnt what little he knew of the laws of Latin verse from a ragged book written by a Portuguese priest. Their diving-stone, poised on its rude supports and rocking under their plunges, and the rough-hewn stones of the sloping breakwater over which they scrambled in their horseplay gleamed with cold wet lustre. And the proliferation of prisons, however necessary, is no substitute for hope and order in our souls. --Take it easy like a good young fellow, said his father.
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