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“He went up to Tom—he was still crouching against the house—” “Peter Stolway, may I arsk you to tell out loud what you was whisperin’?” CHAPTER II THE SATURDAY GANG.
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Conrad
“Oh!” interposed Betty, “but they didn’t throw a sorft stone. I don’t b’lieve in sorft answers no more.” “Yes, yes; take us to the park, papa,” piped one half of the Siamese Twins. Billy didn’t wait. Like all generous natures that are slow to anger, the passion once aroused possessed him to madness. He raced down the turnpike, his face aflame. Ahead he could see the Dorrs’ horse and buggy standing near the fence. Jimmy was on the ground beside the Twins; and Billy saw the whip descend more than once before he arrived. Had he known it the blows were make-believe, for moral effect alone. Jimmy was giving a lesson that his Southern breeding made him think necessary, if painful. “Arsk a dorg with a tin pail tied to his ear to smile at yer,” returned Moses, sourly..
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