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Howard Eliot guided his charges through the mazes of the city to a restaurant. Moses with the perennial appetite of fourteen ate silently and steadily, not omitting one item on the menu. He gorged. “Well, Moses,” queried his genial host at the supper table, “did the skating go pretty good to-day?” “She’ll be all right. May Nell and me—I—we took our lunch and went over to Potter’s pasture. Shoot! She’s waiting now! I hope the poor little kiddie—little girl—eats, don’t wait for me,—she an’ Bouncer.”.
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Conrad
“Mamma, Pretty’s finishing the lawn for me; can’t I rub the floors right now? The Gang’s coming and we want to do a lot to-day.” “We’ll play there’s a strike in the saw-mills, Dutchy, and this is scab labor,” Billy excused amiably. And for a fact the white cotton string carried the messages quite safely from the “Front,” where Jimmy and George laid out the “line” over wonderful grades, across impossible gorges; and “wired” back for further orders. Harry Potter was the operator at the “Front,” and Vilette,—“Women do operate, you know,” she said,—Vilette was the proud holder of “the key” at Headquarters, where Clarence Hammond strutted around as Messenger; and because he was the “son of the Boss,” bullied his Cousin Harry unmercifully. Now he crept through the brush by the roadside till he came close under the west wall. The setting sun blazed red fire at him from the windows, reminding him sharply of the hour. “Here was Joner scourin’ down to Jopper to take the ship to Tarshidge arter the Lord hed distinctly told him to go to Niniver, an’ fer punishment the Lord hed him swallered by a whale.”.
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