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A president is born

Note 12 — Chapter Seven

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... as I used to say of our Davey, long before he showed the slightest precocity other than a sort of walking-encyclopedia garrulousness, for which we used to hold Henry to hilarious account, that he was the typical Schuyler. And so he was, embodying in his very babyishness the square, plodding quality of a small war-tank.

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