Every back bent a little lower. Every face flushed a little rosier under its coat of grime. Praise from Billy was all they asked.,
The quaint words seemed incongruous for so small a child, as did her self-control; and the accent on the last syllable of “mama” made her seem almost foreign to Billy. Yet he admired her anew as she tried to hold still her trembling lips, to restrain her tears; as she threw up her head, winked hard, and felt vainly for a handkerchief.,
Gamin’ out the thorns an’ charff,,
“Here, slow-pokes, drop yer carrots in this here bin.” He indicated an empty oat-bin.
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Billy was suddenly overcome with bashfulness when the child, quite composed, came forward to meet him. A bath, a shampoo, and new clothes had transformed her from a tangled, smudged little girl to a lovely miss with a high-bred air foreign to the childish manners Billy understood. He recognized Edith’s gown in the pretty frock mother and daughter had sat late to make over; but the neat ties and hose, all the little things it takes to make a girl look pretty, where had they come from?,
The basket piled high with snowy linen and cotton seemed almost to overflow the brim. Betty pressed the clothes down with her brown hands, while the complaining boy enlarged on the sordid details of that trying wash-day and on the manner in which his mother had teased him. The child’s sense of humor outbalanced even her sympathy and a peal of laughter rang out. Her laugh was a long delicious trill, as though a bird had dropped from the clouds singing still with the sunrise tangled in its notes. Moses paused long enough for a procession of commas and semicolons to pass by. Then seeing his disappointment in her apparent lack of sympathy, Betty hastened to console him.,
The audience made an impetuous dash to the scene of the fatality and as he stooped over the dripping yellow-frocked figure a jolt of even greater proportions upset the bucket entirely; a deluge of the unsavory mixture almost knocked off his knightly helmet and trickled from its rusty edges till he looked like a very rotund and rakish Don Quixote.,
she quoted glibly. “I know a lot more of it. Do you?”
“You can send some one after us, a man—not you, not either of you,” he called back over his shoulder, and was soon out of sight.
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Developer Response,
“You can search me.” Billy was about to remark further, when a commotion arose among the school children just passing on their way home.
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“That’s Flash; he always works for his breakfast,” Billy pompously approved.
1n2ge-Xu,
Bingbing-Li
At this mendacious statement Mrs. Wopp turned on her offspring a withering glance.
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Halin-Chen Response,
>“I must of looked like that Lize or the picter couldn’t of been took.” Ruefully he rubbed his bald crown.
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