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Still no St. Elmo. They proceeded a considerable distance down the creek. “I’ll not make a noise, and I’ll—I’ll try not to cry; but I’m afraid I’ll ha-have t-to,” she faltered, struggling to hide her eyes that grew moist in spite of herself. “Take May Nell into the garden with you, Billy,” Mrs. Bennett said; “I shall be busy with the Saturday work, and she will be happier in the sunshine. And don’t speak of the earthquake,” she warned him aside; “she must forget that as fast as possible.”.
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Conrad
Billy laughed. “Mixed again, mamma. This is Vilette,” he drew one bashful little girl nearer the stranger, “and this is Evelyn, Echo, we call her.” “All but finding the job, mother. Jobs don’t hunt boys; and mine’s going to be waiting for me when the school house door shuts: that is, if I can persuade any man in the town or county that he needs a boy my size.” “No, no, dear. Keep them, an’ I’ll put them in warter when we go to the house,” begged Betty. “The fairies are orful cross when they see dead flowers lyin’ round. Mebbe they might be too angry to come in the garding again ever.” Full of her thought she slipped from the couch, and went to the kitchen. “Mrs. Bennett, haven’t you some work a little girl could do?”.
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