Practice Typing
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man - Joyce, James ยท 65 words
The air was soft and grey and mild and evening was coming. There was the smell of evening in the air, the smell of the fields in the country where they digged up turnips to peel them and eat them when they went out for a walk to Major Bartons, the smell there was in the little wood beyond the pavilion where the gallnuts were.
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