“Yes, you shall be our dear little girl.” Mrs. Bennett took the forlorn child in her motherly arms and kissed her. “You’re tired and hungry, too, aren’t you?”,
“I hate to have you stay without Jean,” Billy objected.,
“I have to help sister, you know.”,
As she went about her work, Betty’s braids of fair hair tied with wisps of faded red ribbon stood out stiffly from her head. Her eyebrows were not quite grown in yet and she presented a comical appearance blinking in the sun as she regarded Moses who was helping her.
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“I am wartchin’, Mar,” replied Moses, “But Josh ’pears to be worryin’ ’bout somethin’. He’s chewin’ his bit an’ breakin’ inter a run-like every minute.”,
“Doubtless it is incorporated in the language of some foreign people,” conceded Mrs. Mifsud, languidly.,
Then scartter seeds of kindness,,
“It was all splendid; and, Billy, I never dreamed it was in you! Sister’s operetta would have been a failure if it hadn’t been for you.”
At the door of the Crump household, Moses stood before the daughter of the house who answered the bell, burning hot with the fever of an overwhelming embarrassment. His body glowed so that steam might have been seen arising from his dripping garments. He almost yearned for incarceration in an ice-house. His personal pulchritude had not been enhanced by the experience and the critical eyes of the young girl failed to express any degree of admiration or sympathy. More than ever Moses longed for the encircling arms of Betty.
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He looked at the beaming faces, at the beautiful table with Jean’s great pagoda cake in the centre, the dates, 1893-1906, in evergreen; at the flowers everywhere; at the dishes,—they usually ate from vine leaves at their out-of-door feasts,—at the paper napkins folded fantastically and hovering over the table like gay butterflies. His eloquent face told his surprise, his gratitude, his delight. He opened his mouth to speak some fitting word, but it wouldn’t come. He tried again, for he felt the occasion called for something formally appreciative. But only a whimsical idea flitted into his mind; and he sang back—
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It was apparent to the most casual observer that Mannel’s whole wardrobe consisted of one grey shirt, one pair of faded blue overalls and a pair of braces. To the uninitiated his occasional absences from school for an entire day would have seemed most mysterious. Leading questions as to the cause having been put to other members of the family who were present elicited only a reluctant reply that Mannel was not ill. Further than this they would not go. At last even on the most obtuse one, light would dawn. Mannel was being laundered.
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That night when Mrs. Bennett went into the Fo’castle there was an unusual note in Billy’s voice.
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Halin-Chen Response,
>St. Elmo looked at the specimens in his hand. “These pansies is most deaded. I fink I’ll fwow them away,” he declared.
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