'Sunt tempora nostra!'
Master Punch, do join the chorus; spirited little dear! won't you give a
lift to Great-works? Spare not, young chip, or else, the jackasses in the
Australian bush will breed as numerous as the locusts in the African desert.
It is not FEAR that makes me shake at chapters XCII and XCIII.
Good reader, to the last line of this book, my quill shall stick to my
word as given in the first chapter. Hence, for the present, this is the
LAST. Put by carefully the pipe, we may want it again: meanwhile,
FAREWELL.
End of Project Gutenberg Etext of The Eureka Stockade, by Raffaello Carboni
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