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“Yes, yes; take us to the park, papa,” piped one half of the Siamese Twins. Her breakfast finished, Betty sought the company of Moses, who was in a small shed adjoining the kitchen. He was piling some fire-wood he had carried in from the yard. “’Cause I love you, ’n’ I hope the edges’ll be all pink like my mornin’-glories.”.

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“But you don’t feel so now, my son. Jimmy will soon be well; you, too. Then you can talk with him about it. Rest, now; that is your first duty,” she comforted, and left him. Through the open door could be heard the strains of “Pull for the shore” sung with heart and soul by the intermediate class, and to that lively air Moses made for the exit as expeditiously as his sodden garments would allow. “O Billy!” Jean gasped, fear for the little, delicate girl in that eery place lending sympathy to her voice. “Can you drive?” he asked, anxiously, as he unhitched the horse. He noticed with a second sinking feeling that Jimmy’s face twitched with pain, that his right arm hung limp..