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the North, but he went at a snail's pace, and was soon distanced by the others.
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The old man's arms were
full of unfinished bows, and
his good tools
and his precious flints. He
walked along, limping at the
very tail of the procession,
and gradually dropping further
and further behind.
And after a little as he was stumping along and dragging his crushed foot after him, the fire caught up with him and threw him on his face, and passed on.
