When the turnkey, next morning, stepp'd into his room, The sight of the hole in the wall struck him dumb; The sheriff's black bracelets lay strewn on the ground, But the lad that had worn 'em could nowhere be found. “Could you play ‘Fiddler on the Roof’?” father Thomas pleaded. Sheppard. ‘That I do not yet know. She refrained.
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