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In the meantime Mr. Wopp sitting precariously on the edge of the sofa was examining for at least the two-hundredth time the red plush album which contained the records of the Wopp family, past and present, in picture form. He looked long and earnestly at a tin-type representing a plump, velvet-coated, mop-haired boy of twelve. He sighed deeply. “Come on Betty, you haven’t had a dance this evening. It isn’t fair for the grownups to have all the fun,” invited Howard Eliot. “Mosey, ef I darn yer socks fer a month would you let me hev’ two bits?”.

“The Lord loveth a cheerful liver, Moses,” said his mother encouragingly, as she saw the growing acidity of the boy’s countenance. Mrs. Wopp had never forgotten a certain missionary service, during which she had studied a text in gold lettering of old English type on the wall. The uncertain light of stained glass falling on the last word had made it difficult to read. But at last realizing that a sound liver and cheerfulness are closely associated, she had seen no incongruity in her translation of the text.I tried logging in using my phone number and I was supposed to get a verification code text,but didn't get it. I clicked resend a couple time, tried the "call me instead" option twice but didn't get a call either. the trouble shooting had no info on if the call me instead fails.There was “Not till evening; but there’s the lawn.”

The shower was over in a few moments and all prepared to leave the barn for the house. As he reached for his cap a door opposite the one through which he had passed opened, and the grey head of the sexton appeared. The child seeing the twinkle in the older eyes, laughed aloud; and, wrapped in a voluminous apron, began the first task that had ever left its stain on her pretty fingers. Fer our reapin’ bye ’n’ bye.”.