Every morning during the summer a bunch of morning-glories, wet with dew, adorned the breakfast table. Blue and pink and white, they seemed the very spirit of morning freshness and sweetness.,
“Don’t Job look jist like Mariar Mifsud goin’ to meetin’,” gurgled Betty.,
“Betty Wopp,” she exclaimed, “you couldn’t be no wetter ef you’d fell in the big slough. Come on to the house an’ change yer clothes. St. Elmo ’ll need warshin’, too, I reckon.”.
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