Say
to me, if you know your own life-spoiled children well enough to even
answer with honesty and dignity about their inmost nature: how many
young boys would do as I would have done – and so have
done – with the large carcass of the woods… poking on its exposed
innards with excitement and a contented smile, a childish mouth bent
like a crescent moon at the merest sight of the dispersing clouds of
flesh-eating flies?
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