“Surely Billy has earned it, Mrs. Bennett,” Mr. Smith urged.,
“No, we won’t!” came a dozen voices.,
“Billy! My—boy!” Mrs. Bennett bent over him; and he felt a tear where her cheek touched his.,
“Mebbe them new seed catalogue folks cheated us, Mar,” he suggested.
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“Then I went in an’ spoke to ’em ’s though I hadn’t heard a word, and hustled off to bed. I thought ’most all night, and decided that sister shan’t wait a day longer for me to grow up. I’m going to hustle for myself, so she can get married.”,
“Shade of Beelzebub! Where did you spring from?” shouted the astonished man.,
Visitors! He saw them through the window. Every step was growing more painful,—he must get to his room. The space from the woodshed roof to the tower room, before so easily surmounted by a swinging jump, looked now as high and far as Mount Whitney. Back to the window he turned. The firelight was dancing on the walls. Sister Edith was talking gayly to neighbors who were standing near the door, and May Nell was snuggled beside his mother on the couch, the great yellow cat, or a part of him, sprawling on her small lap.,
The bottle went crash, and a furious yell informed the neighborhood that the Gang was “up to some new deviltry.”
“Measles,” Mrs. Bennett pronounced; and though it was a light case, and in a day or so Billy felt as well as ever except his eyes, they were sentenced to a dark room.
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Developer Response,
Betty, not interested in intricate relationships, tiptoed into the parlor and uncovering the organ, played with one finger “Home Sweet Home.” The wool-embroidered motto on the wall almost wept.
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1eib0-Wong,
It’s a Quan-Yuan
A mile or two down the creek the searching party sought diligently for the little lost boy. Moses was in the lead. He had announced his adamant resolve to find St. Elmo, or perform the irrevocable feat of “bustin’.” He cherished an idea of his own as to the child’s whereabouts. A few weeks previously, on an all-day excursion, Moses had played pirates with St. Elmo and they had utilized a most delectable earthy cave for their game.
vpx76-Xu,
Bingbing-Li
“White eyebrows child! What are you talkin’ about? Yer eyebrows are blacker nor that stove.”
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Halin-Chen Response,
>“This peacock,” went on Betty, showing the picture of a bird with plumed tail outspread, “is the white peacock of the moon. It lives in the moon, but when fairies want to come to play with li’l girls, they harness the peacock an’ drive down to earth in a silver chariot.”
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