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Presently Clarence caught up to him and bore him down a side street lest further attempts at apology should cause him to again accost the irate stranger. The dutiful husband drew from his pocket a long slip of paper and a small stubby pencil. Having a poor memory, he had formed the habit of making a note of everything his wife suggested, so that he could fulfill her wishes in future. The notes were plentiful, but they failed in some unaccountable way to prod his memory. “Surely Billy has earned it, Mrs. Bennett,” Mr. Smith urged..

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He was pleased with her sympathy; but being a boy, he didn’t like to show it. “I’ll tell you,” he said, eagerly, and without further acknowledgment of her kindness, “ask Mr. Brown to give you my books. Perhaps to-night I can see to study.” The heat was awful; yet it was growing less, for the fire was nearly spent, but Billy was so exhausted he did not perceive it. He began to stumble, to see double. Everything seemed to be on fire,—trees, rocks, even the water gleaming from overhead flames. His blood felt hot in his veins; and long afterward he saw red in his sleep. At length his foot caught in a root, and he fell heavily. Harold turned and looked to where May Nell stood with the twins, sorting her flowers. “Isn’t she a daisy, though? Little—why, she’s only a baby.” “Mudgie, Mudgie, come to Elmo.”.