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[Nicolau Tavera]

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Bes h t S v el u li b ng Wa z tc e he z s
 
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growing together as if they had been planted. Especially there was
clover, waving patches of cockscomb clover, and purple clover, and wide
stretches of short white sweet honey-smelling clover. There was a
buzzing and a whirring and a droning in the air. Bees were busy
everywhere. And such bees! Bilbo had never seen anything like them.
If one was to sting me, he thought, I should swell up as big again


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