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She was happy and the time passed unnoticed till she had finished, and put the food back in the pail, when a queer, dizzy feeling came upon her and she sank down on one of the rugs. Some of the voices were cracked and others badly out of tune. Moses Wopp’s voice, loudest of all, sounded like a foghorn and the windows fairly rattled in their frames. Nell motioned him to her desk. She thought by occupying his attention elsewhere the music lesson might proceed with more melody and less noise. Moses had developed his stentorian tones at home, by the lusty singing of Hallelujah hymns under the strict supervision of his mother. “I like Sunday School best ’cause I do things there.”.
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Conrad
He swung his book-strap in greeting to his mother while rolling more slowly up the rose-bordered path to the veranda. He thought his mother’s face looked tired; but the smile there welcomed him warmly, and he forgot the tired look with her first words. “If I can’t Vilette can. Old Bob goes by himself, anyway.” He made a brave though unsuccessful effort to appear as usual. In the blessin’s of to-day, The sun shone brightly and the atmosphere had that brilliant clarity, peculiar to the prairie. Several chattering magpies strutted on the grassplot between the house and the barn. Betty ran around to the further side of the house where lay the garden. Here Moses and his mother were already hard at work..
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