"I suppose it didn't drop through the ceiling, did it? Are you quite sure it's flesh and blood?" asked he, playfully pinching its arm till it cried out with pain. Mountains out of molehills and armies out of windmills; and you'll tire yourself in one direction and shatter yourself in the other. Sir John gave his order, deliberately stumbling now and then over a word, and anglicizing others. Before many minutes elapsed, he had picked a large hole in the plaster, which showered down in a cloud of dust; and breaking off several laths, caught hold of a beam, by which he held with one hand, until with the other he succeeded, not without some difficulty, in forcing out one of the tiles.
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