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CHAPTER VII THE FIGHT “Kettle’s a-bilin’, Glory Girl, an’ Par an’ Mose’d like a cup of tea; but ’fore you leave the organ, play ‘Greenland Icy Mountains,’ it’s been runnin’ in my head orl day.” A certain wide lawn, starred with white clover and daisies came unwelcome to his mind. He ought that moment to be chopping off clover tops..
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Conrad
The whistle shrilled up the narrow valley, echoing back and forth from the steep green hills that bounded it. Mrs. Wopp’s voice, a dramatic outburst before which almost any cloud would have quailed, filled the bedroom. Betty turned to Nell Gordon, “I hope all yer clouds’ll hev silver linin’s, Miss Gordon,” she smiled. Thus adjured, Howard began, while Mrs. Wopp leaned back in her chair rocking vigorously. “But some people like their work, don’t they?” May Nell persisted. She was exploring strange country..
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