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It was a proud and happy family that returned to the Wopp homestead late that evening. The air being chilly, a fire was lighted in the dining-room and around this inspiring centre there was much discussion of the days doings. The unparalleled sagacity of Moses was the jubilant theme running in the minds of his parents and sister. Moses bore his honors modestly. “Sing something, Mar.” Betty’s plaintive voice broke the silence. “Miss Gordon here, made me a harnsome lace yoke fer an underwaist, an’ give it to me fer my birthday,” volunteered Mrs. Wopp..

"Do you see the hour, infants?" she demanded. "Tomorrow is a full day, and we must get to our beds. Toddle, Judy dear. If you aren't asleep in ten minutes you'll have to take a nap in the afternoon."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 "Maurice is not here. Come, Miss Dallas, let me take you back to your mother."

“Afore I begin weedin’,” she announced, “I b’lieve I’ll make two bouquets, one orl yaller an’ one orl white, an’ some sparrer-grass in both.” As Moses clattered down stairs, Mrs. Wopp continued, “There is shore a thunderstorm comin’ up to-night. ’Pears to me I heerd like a roll of drums.” “Moses iny boy, yer bile must be riz; this very night you git a dose of physic.” Moses lower lip dropped lower and lower. As that energetic lady bustled about the kitchen the same evening setting the bread, her voice rose in a series of trills and other embellishments as she sang “Where is my wanderin’ boy to-night?”.