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How the missionary box would jingle! How the heathen would sing for joy! While on the Wopp table carrot pudding could become a diurnal felicity! “You must ’scuse me not goin’ to meet you, Miss Gordon,” apologized Mr. Wopp, as he held suspended a knife full of mashed potato, destined for his mouth. “But I hev a sick cow I couldn’t git away from, so I ast Howard here to drive in fer you.” CHAPTER XVII.—A SAMPLE OF EBENEZER WOPP’S IRE..
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🎁 Exclusive Bonuses Await You at Jackpot Wheel app 💎✨I tried logging in using my phone number and I
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Conrad
“Aint it amazin’ how hungry one gits,” hoarsely remarked Mr. Wopp who had not spoken for some time owing to close application to the task in hand. “Lize, I want a piece of that punkin pie of yourn.” Here he caressed the bulging buttons on his waistcoat. “My mouth’s waterin’ fer it an’ I b’lieve I hev room.” “It’s my doin’s, Mar,” said Betty, “I made it orl up outer my head.” “Rocky?” he interrupted. “You bet not. It’ll be just bully, that’s what!” A few minutes later the entire Egyptian fortune-telling outfit came down stairs at Billy’s heels. The hubbub was a riot of fun, and no one noticed that Billy said nothing about the revelations of destiny made to him; though later Jean recalled that in the zig-zag journey around the park that was Billy’s evening exercise, he spoke very little to the chatterers with him, even forgot to “jolly.”.
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