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THE NAUGHTY BOY |
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' But your bow is spoiled,' said the old poet.
' That would be a pity,' replied the little boy ; and he took the bow and looked at it. ' Oh, it is quite dry, and has suffered no damage ; the string is quite stiff—I will |
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try it! ' Then he bent it, and laid an arrow across, aimed, and shot the good old poet straight into the heart. ' Do you see now that my bow was not spoiled ? ' said he, and laughed out loud and ran away. What a naughty boy to shoot at the old poet in that way, who had let him into the |
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