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It Is Never Too Late to Mend by Charles Reade
page 52 of 1072 (04%)

No. 1 was a great show of farming implements at Doncaster.

No. 2 showed how, one day in the history of man and of mutton, a sheep
was sheared, her wool washed, teased, carded, etc., and the cloth *'d
and *'d and *'d and *'d, and a coat shaped and sewed and buttoned upon
a goose, whose preparations for inebriating the performers and
spectators of his feat appeared in a prominent part of the picture.

The window of this sunny little room was open and on the sill was a
row of flower-pots from which a sweet fresh smell crept with the
passing air into the chamber.

Behind these flower-pots for two hours past had crouched--all eye and
ear and mind--a keen old man.

To Isaac Levi age had brought vast experience, and had not yet dimmed
any one of his senses. More than forty-five years ago he had been
brought to see that men seldom act or speak so as to influence the
fortunes of others without some motive of their own; and that these
motives are seldom the motives they advance; and that their real
motives are not always known to themselves, and yet can nearly always
be read and weighed by an intelligent bystander.

So for near half a century Isaac Levi had read that marvelous page of
nature written on black, white and red parchments, and called "Man."

One result of his perusal was this, that the heads of human tribes
differ far more than their hearts.

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