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“I am given to understand by the best fashion-plates, Mrs. Wopp, that the garment you term an ‘underwaist’ is now designated a casserole.” Billy ducked his head into the cooling water, filled his mouth, and ran on. He could hear the painful breathing of the prisoners bearing the chest. It looked heavy, and he knew it was hard to carry, walking single file down the steep trail. How awfully they must feel, Billy thought. It was like the children in the fiery furnace. Did the men see that this was a tragic beginning of the just penalty for their sins? Cheats! Robbers! No, not robbers, boldly[221] risking life for booty, but cunning thieves, stealing from their fellow men, from widows, orphans, perhaps from his own mother; she had taken a counterfeit piece only a little while before. Then Moses commenced. He ran up and down a chromatic scale of puffs and groans and sniffles, ending with a cadence that sounded like, “Gosh dern!”.
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Howard caught Nell’s gaze. He longed to gather the girl who had so completely captured his heart into his arms and kiss away their estrangement. May Nell ran and hugged Mrs. Bennett, and Edith and Billy in turn, nestling afterward in her father’s arms. “When I see Moses was still wearin’ his best Sunday coat an’ pants an’ tearin’ along on that cayuse like John Gilping, I come all out in goose-flesh, Ebenezer, till you’d think the merkery had fell clean down to zero.” “It’s my doin’s, Mar,” said Betty, “I made it orl up outer my head.”.
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