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Whose feet never tire, Moses began cutting make-believe tickets using the paper and scissors thrust into his hand by the capable manageress of the show. “And I’m always going to be your little girl, too,” the child pleaded; “so Billy must be my papa’s little boy.”.

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May Nell was not taken to her father; he came to her. Edith’s pictures of the little girl fulfilled their mission; they met him as soon as he landed from South America. He had been a busy man during those few days; had found not only his child but his wife, ill in a country sanitarium; where, for weeks after the earthquake and fire had, she supposed, swallowed her little daughter, she lingered, praying only to die. Now with husband and child both saved to her, she was fast growing well; needed only their presence to complete her recovery. The loose-jointed one at last regained his feet and turning in the direction of the witnesses of his ignominy gave them a resentful glare. Moses was leaning against a fence and laughing till it seemed as though his eyes must remain indefinitely imbedded in their sockets. “But, Mose, you shorely didn’t fergit a sorft answer turneth away wrarth?” Presently, Moses made for the yard and on his way, offered tribute to Betty by standing on his head on the mat at the door..