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Outside the spring warmth and fragrance enfolded the children as a mantle, opening their hearts to each other. Billy showed his flock of pigeons, his white chickens and the house where they roosted and brought forth their fluffy broods. Old Bouncer barked and capered about them; and the little girl tried to decide which cat was the prettiest, white Flash watching for gophers in the green alfalfa, or Sir Thomas Katzenstein, his yellow mate, basking in the sun. “He isn’t yellow like any other cat I ever saw; he’s shaded so beautifully.” “We must go right back,” Jimmy declared, turning to the door of the kitchen and thrusting a package within. “Well, papa did. If he was alive he’d be giving it to me about now, good and plenty.”.
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Conrad
“Never mind Mosey, yer heart don’t need fixin’ anyhow,” comforted Betty. “What is Betty like?” He threw himself on the bed and wept the bitterest tears he had ever shed in his life, tears of shame. There he lay—hours, he thought—determined to bear his pain and disgrace alone. Yet it was only minutes when he heard his mother in her room, coming! “Tremendous long visit,” Billy taunted; “what’d you come for? Another donation for my new sister?”.
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