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Bazars

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Once upon a time a deacon who did not favor church bazars was going
along a dark street when a footpad suddenly appeared, and, pointing his
pistol, began to relieve his victim of his money.

The thief, however, apparently suffered some pangs of remorse. "It's
pretty rough to be gone through like this, ain't it, sir?" he inquired.

"Oh, that's all right, my man," the "held-up" one answered cheerfully.
"I was on my way to a bazar. You're first, and there's an end of it."





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