A rising earthquake rocked the ground.
Ostensibly, the class was about public health in general, but the main thrust was really sex education.
He who would see it with his mind's eye must begin by very little, and then by little and little climb nigher and nigher, and stepmeal, as if he were climbing on a ladder, and would be up on some sea'cliff; […]
And that's how it came to pass that on the second-to-last day of the job, the convict crew that tarred the plate factory roof in the spring of forty-nine wound up sitting in a row at ten o'clock in the morning drinking icy cold, Bohemia-style beer, courtesy of the hardest screw that ever walked a turn at Shawshank State Prison.
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