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Moses’ face became as mournful as his music had been. It was as though he had suddenly realized that life was, after all, more serious than one suspects in one’s idle moments. “That boy’ll sartinly spill the tea,” prophecied Mrs. Wopp, with laughing pessimism. “Rather like a dear little girl, that so will find her mother,” Mrs. Bennett reassured..
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Conrad
Clarence brought out his high-school books to display before the simple country boy the profundity of his learning. He opened his “Euclid” and Moses, sitting at the table, was vastly impressed with the sight of angles and triangles, and rash but interesting statements about abc being equal to bed. His attitude toward Clarence became one of utter abasement as that budding Archimedes produced his exercise book covered with squat-shaped triangles gleefully pursuing circles whose rims were horribly mangled by reason of defective compasses. 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? CHAPTER XIII THE HIDDEN HUT “Oh, Miss Gordon, here’s my name,” announced Betty, excitedly, pointing to a central part of the quilt. “An’ here’s yours right clost to it.”.
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