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“Of course they won’t be too tired! The kids have pluck.” “Come, Jethro, Betty’ll carry her li’l white puppykins, pore li’l footsy’s so sore.” “And just worships you. Is your lawn mowed?”.

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Nell looked toward the morning-glory garden and there she saw Betty kneeling in the moonlight. Jethro was sitting up on his hind legs beside the little figure, holding his paws before him. The moonlight fell on his penitential white body, on the stiff braids of the sorrowful and contrite Betty, and lighted up the bright yellow nasturtiums that filled the air with their pungent odor. The morning-glory leaves gleamed in the pure white light. “I can walk,” she said, struggling to be put down. “That’s for Billy’s cats; mine need none,” Edith declared. “I’m the Royal Egyptian Fortune Teller!” Bess announced, in a deep voice. “This is my desert tent. I shall reveal the past, present, and future to those only whom my favor shall designate. Slaves, the lamps!”.