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“Moses,” she directed, “git an empty apple-box fer the burnt orfferin’s.” Mr. Zalhambra’s gaze fell full on the girl and her color heightened under his ardent look. “Arsk a dorg with a tin pail tied to his ear to smile at yer,” returned Moses, sourly..

"Oh," cried Jen, recalling Dido's denial, "she knows of that, does she?"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 Patricia sighed and stirred restlessly. "Isn't that like life?" she commented, her face clearing as the thought took hold on her. "We're all hankering after something that we haven't got—or we think we are. Maybe—maybe we'd not like the other thing any better if we did get it, though one's own things always seem awfully commonplace, don't they?"

“Ef you wish it, Ebenezer,” responded his spouse though still somewhat absorbed in the frustrated hopes of her relative, “jist wait till I drawr up the blinds.” Her breakfast finished, Betty sought the company of Moses, who was in a small shed adjoining the kitchen. He was piling some fire-wood he had carried in from the yard. “No ‘chase’ to-day, girls. I’ve got business in town.” In the meantime Mr. Wopp sitting precariously on the edge of the sofa was examining for at least the two-hundredth time the red plush album which contained the records of the Wopp family, past and present, in picture form. He looked long and earnestly at a tin-type representing a plump, velvet-coated, mop-haired boy of twelve. He sighed deeply..