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Splish. Splash. Splish. Splash. The only sound that could be heard in the fog was the sound of his make-shift pole pushing his lily boat through the water. Like a beacon in the night, Mr. Firefly’s light guided Norton through the gray darkness. The fog was chilly and moist, and soon his coat was covered in tiny dew drops of water, that shook when he shivered.
“’Tis not much farther now!” shouted Mr. Firefly, “not much farther at all!”
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