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Tartarin of Tarascon by Alphonse Daudet
page 3 of 126 (02%)
with spring-bayonets, Carib and flint arrows, knuckle-dusters, life-
preservers, Hottentot clubs, Mexican lassoes -- now, can you
expect me to name the rest? Upon the whole fell a fierce sunlight,
which made the blades and the brass butt-plate of the muskets
gleam as if all the more to set your flesh creeping. Still, the
beholder was soothed a little by the tame air of order and tidiness
reigning over the arsenal. Everything was in place, brushed,
dusted, labelled, as in a museum; from point to point the eye
descried some obliging little card reading:


-----------------------------------------
I Poisoned Arrows! I
I Do Not Touch! I
-----------------------------------------

Or,

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I Loaded! I
I Take care, please! I
-----------------------------------------

If it had not been for these cautions I never should have dared
venture in.

In the middle of the room was an occasional table, on which stood
a decanter of rum, a siphon of soda-water, a Turkish tobacco-
pouch, "Captain Cook's Voyages," the Indian tales of Fenimore
Cooper and Gustave Aimard, stories of hunting the bear, eagle,
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