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“Oh, don’t wait for me,” Billy exclaimed, opening his eyes suddenly; “you won’t catch ’em! The fire’ll get there first! Hurry! Leave me alone, I tell you!” “Yes, he can do that; I’ve seen him myself.” A tall, lean, loose-jointed, large-limbed man was enjoying the frosty air and walked briskly humming a gay tune. All at once he found his face upturned to the glorious blue sky and a youthful voice reached his ear, “Did you see the telegraph pole sail over that icy spot?” Then another voice equally youthful, but with a distinct absence of city polish, answered, “Betcher life I seen him, wouldn’t of missed it fer a punkin pie, he’s lookin’ fer gopher holes in the ground yet.”.
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The man gave him an affectionate slap. “Go, then. You’re a right game kid, sure.” “You keep still, Betsey! I’m going to watch!” he exclaimed, as if some one had spoken. A whoop startled her and she turned to see a handsome boy racing up on a brown pony, also carrying a basket. “La now! An’ why do you say that, my dear?” inquired Mrs. Wopp. “Set up straight, Moses, yer back looks like you was packin’ a sack of pertaters.”.
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