However, the stove-pipe was at last cleaned and ready to put up. Moses’ moroseness had by now developed into a complaint, the chief symptoms of which were sniffling and coughing.,
A hand shot up at this point in the lesson and a thin voice piped, “Please, Mis’ Wopp, I was to the Fair last year.”,
Mrs. Wopp’s bonnet with its imitation osprey looked as though adorned with fragments of barbed-wire. Her jet earrings seemed entirely superfluous as the lobes of her generous ears glowed like rubies.,
“Billy, you’re a wise guy. This beats Maskey’s,” Harold declared.
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Her wardrobe was a heavy drain on Edith’s purse, yet the young teacher delighted almost as a mother in the dainty garments that won her to extravagance.,
As the children left the school-house, Betty was met by Job. He appeared to be headed for a point at an angle of about forty-five degrees from his mistress, but it was only his corner-wise way of walking, caused by his defective eye. Notwithstanding his seemingly erratic course he reached Betty’s side and thrust his head into the pocket of her small pinafore. He found there what put him into high good humor. Gaily he strutted after his little mistress. Bringing up the rear came Moses shuffling along, accompanied by Jethro. He took from his pocket a huge bun.,
Yet they had already stopped, turned, and driven quickly to the house, hurried by the frenzy in the boy’s tones.,
“She’s there, old dog!” Billy caught Bouncer’s nose tight in his hand to prevent a repetition; and at that instant May Nell herself appeared at the window!
Betty winced slightly as the chilly weapon touched her face, but recollecting the importance of the issue at stake she submitted tamely to be shorn. In a few moments Moses stepped back to contemplate the result of his drastic work. There was no denying that it had totally changed his little sister’s appearance. A queer expression on Moses’ face made Betty enquire anxiously, “What is it? Don’t I look orlright Moses?”
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Developer Response,
In the house, meanwhile, affairs were proceeding quite as happily as those out of doors. The hostess fluctuated between the parlor and kitchen. She was preparing a repast not only for the workers present, but also for the men-folk who would presently arrive to take them to their respective homes. Excused from quilting, she nevertheless managed to spend considerable time with her guests. Mrs. Mifsud was a lady who aspired to literary attainments. She had read “Beulah,” “Vashti,” “Lucile,” “St. Elmo” and many other books of like calibre. She felt that her talents were practically wasted, living in what she termed a desert, yet she strove, when occasion offered, by elegance of deportment and conversation to enhance her gifts. She often spoke tenderly of the late Mr. Mifsud who, in spite of the fact that his face had been adorned with bristling side-whiskers of an undeniable red, had shown in other ways some signs of intelligence and feeling. He had been carried off by the shingles. According to Mrs. Mifsud’s account, her deeply-lamented spouse had considered the tall attenuated form of his wife “willowy,” her long thin black hair “a crown of glory,” her worn narrow countenance with its sharp nose and coal-black eyes, “seraphic.”
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8a92j-Wong,
It’s a Quan-Yuan
In answer to his wife’s reproof, Mr. Wopp almost roared, “Where’s the hammer? Gone hide an’ hair it is, like everythink else.”
k5lx7-Xu,
Bingbing-Li
Here Mrs. Wopp related for the hundredth time the account of the ketchup disaster.
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Halin-Chen Response,
>Ebenezer Wopp was the last silent word in patient masculinity, but his face, becoming darker with his work, would lead an onlooker to believe that sinister thoughts were struggling to find expression.
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