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“No, like a prima donna,” his sister retorted. “Mith Wopp,” offered Lila Williams with a dignity befitting her eight years and her enviable position as daughter of the regular teacher, “my ma wont let Pete and Pat thit together, they act too thilly.” Involved and intricate variations of “Holy smoke!” made the air sulphureous as a swaying piece of wire caught his shoulder and tore a large gash in his shirt..

In the late afternoon of the second day, after they had slipped silently by the towering walls of the canyon which here came down sharply into the river, and had swung around a bend, Jerry sighted the first rough going.I tried logging in using my phone number and I was supposed to get a verification code text,but didn't get it. I clicked resend a couple time, tried the "call me instead" option twice but didn't get a call either. the trouble shooting had no info on if the call me instead fails.There was “Well, I wouldn’t go again for a pretty,” returned Jerry. “Once is a great plenty. Besides, there isn’t any chance of our ever doing anything with this place. Anything useful, that is. I don’t know what the Chief wanted to bring us up here for. Wish we were on the job. Hate this loafing.”

“Oh, he is a wonderful piannerist,” explained Betty. “He played, Oh, jist lovely, jist like birds singin’ an’ rivers runnin’ an’ the sun shinin’. But arfter he played he looked so fierce I was skeered of him. Miss Gordon didn’t like him either, arfter she got knowin’ him better.” She emerged from the house her hair coiled on the top of her head and decorated with a strip of shining silver from an empty biscuit tin. Thus had she seen a circus lady dressed on one never-to-be-forgotten day. Around her small body was draped a yellow silk shawl of Mrs. Wopps. Her feet were encased in a pair of Ebenezer Wopp’s reddest socks, bound on by bright green ribbon ripped from her winter hat. From her fair hair floated a white aigret made of chicken feathers hastily wired together. Moses needed no aigret as a strand of red hair stood upright from the crown of his head. “They’ve stolen her, all right. I don’t know why, but I know who,—it’s the Ha’nt people!” Billy panted, coming out of the Lodge. Mrs. Wopp’s voice, a dramatic outburst before which almost any cloud would have quailed, filled the bedroom. Betty turned to Nell Gordon, “I hope all yer clouds’ll hev silver linin’s, Miss Gordon,” she smiled..