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“Awfully hard, Billy. Some of them had ‘grief swimming in their eyes.’” “Giving music lessons isn’t work. I’d love to do that.” Awakened to the fact of her son’s existence and perhaps as an antidote to her unusual display of sentiment, Mrs. Wopp spoke rather sharply. “Moses, time you an’ Betty was in bed. You won’t want to git up in the mornin’ an’ milk the cows.” Later left alone in the lower part of the house she stood arms akimbo in the middle of the kitchen gazing at the door through which Nell Gordon had just departed. Shaking her head she said mysteriously, “I kalkerlate as how things is a-settin’ in that way.”.
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Conrad
WELL, what do you want to play?” Billy asked, after the hubbub had a little subsided. “We’re seven,” came the echo. “Last November.” Billy turned the bulky papers over and over as if to gather some hint of their meaning from fold and stiffness. “What is it, Mr. Smith?” he asked wonderingly..
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