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Yazar: Adam Mickiewicz

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And now if any of you gentlemen who are present here ever serves
in the army of the Emperor, let him remember this."
"Ah! my dear Monk!" cried Skoluba, "when will that be? Why, on
every holiday set down in the calendar they prophesy to us that
the French are coming, A man looks and looks until his eyes are
weary, but the Muscovite keeps on holding us by the neck as he
always has. I fear that before the sun rises the dew will ruin
our eyes."

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