{
    "byline": null,
    "charset": "UTF-8",
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    "excerpt": "My brother was a witless man. Happy as a hog, face-down in the trough. No thought of the farmer's axe. He was a brute above my asperous constitution. Yet he had not the will or the guile to let me guide that brawn. So... in my youth, I often imagined I had another sibling. A specter of sorts... A sister. And in my mind, she and I - oh how we would conspire...  great schemes, risk-trades, rapacious plots. And should I ever find myself... back at the trough. Penniless. Betrayed. Rich, only in enemies... She'd be at my side, axe in hand.",
    "lang": null,
    "length": 27906,
    "publishedTime": null,
    "siteName": null,
    "title": ""
}