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“Mar,” he demanded hastily, “more marshed turnips, please.” Mrs. Williams was a round-faced dimpled persuasive lady; and Mrs. Wropp, being non-coax-proof and flattered by the request, consented. They all went off, a merry, noisy troop. And the disappearing sun was the last to say to Billy “Good-night.”.
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Conrad
Now he crept through the brush by the roadside till he came close under the west wall. The setting sun blazed red fire at him from the windows, reminding him sharply of the hour. “I’d love to, Billy,” Mrs. Lancaster whispered; “I’ve never liked being grown up.” “So they took up Joner an’ tossed him inter the sea.” “Stop that there ‘Dead March of Saul,’ an’ go put on yer overalls,” ordered Mrs. Wopp, “what’s the idear of the gardenin’ tool, go git the littlest shovel to put inter the chimbly, an’ don’t let the grass grow under yer feet, neither.”.
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