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Fer our reapin’ bye ’n’ bye.” “Not in the house; in this room, yes.” “You look like some kind-faced happygo-lucky cow, chewin’ her cud,” teased Mrs. Wopp, standing at the parlor door and noting the reminiscent moving of her son’s jaws..

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“My stomach’s crying so I’ll have to eat one more sandwich, Bouncer. It’s a shame when Billy isn’t here. I’ll give you half, old dog.” The sun rose over the hills and his presence could be ignored no longer. As the Wopp family were driving silently home in the chilly morning, Moses, growing reminiscent, remarked with a yawn: When the house was reached, Eliza Wopp was standing, an effective barricade, at the door, waving her large hands in a gesture indicative of dismay. Moses stoically told his tale of assault. “Please, Mith Wopp, the latht windthorm upthet our hen-houth.”.