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“Why not, I’d like to know? Isn’t this my shack? And shall I let a kid burn up?” Billy didn’t see Doctor Carter passing in his buggy, nor hear his greeting; neither did he see the understanding smile; the Doctor easily guessed that Billy was planning fun. And he was; this last week of school should be the happiest ever. Didn’t work begin next Monday? Real work! He couldn’t catch up the bankers in his arms, like his mother, and cajole them into favors. No; it would be all day and every day for a hundred years! Only Sundays, and they didn’t count; for wouldn’t he have to go to church just the same? Mother and sister would be hurt if he “put out to the woods” Sunday mornings. And the bank people, too, would expect him to go to church; hadn’t they said none but steady, well-behaved people could remain in their employ? As Mrs. Wopp was preparing for bed that night, she recalled the sensation the sight of her reckless offspring had given her..

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“Bctcher took orl mornin’ to tittyvate them there carrots,” offered Moses, edging up to Maria with conciliatory glances, and jostling St. Elmo who stood waiting to contribute his donation. The little fellow, whose nose was still “bluggy” from tripping over the saw-horse, dropped his lonely long scraggy carrot on the floor, and in stooping to pick it up struck his head against the handle of a hay-fork and emitted a howl that might have been heard by the heathen themselves in Africa. Betty comforted him with a gum-drop that had lain neglected in her pocket for several weeks, and the cries ceased. The hours passed in an uproar of fun. The table was dismantled, toys, tools, and dishes put away, and the feast had sped into the past. “I got an orful cold, goin’ in an’ out so orften,” he complained. Mrs. Newman and Nell waited after the show for the unique trio that had occupied the box but they were nowhere to be seen. Howard Eliot had whisked his companions off under a pretext of urgent business..