ABSTRACT
A few days after Miss Forester’s departure, Sancho came one evening running, out of breath, to our hero, exclaiming, ‘I have found a prize, a prize! Sure heaven above has had a hand in it, and send massa the blossom as fore-runner of the fruit: the paper plan, to examine well, before he be owner of the house itself. ’Tis as like as two cherries on a stalk, or one of my hands to the other.’ /
