The man gave him an affectionate slap. “Go, then. You’re a right game kid, sure.”,
Billy had been reeling off stanzas of his favorite “Lady of the Lake,”—“by the yard,” Mrs. Bennett said, acting it as he recited, somewhat retarding the work and endangering the dishes. Now he dropped his towel, caught up his mother and raced with her around the room. He was so strong that she was almost helpless in his grasp.,
Moses suspended operations on the woodpile and leaned against it. “Huh,” he grunted with masculine superiority, “all girls think of is looks. Some of them sorft lookin’ teachers is the wust when it comes to lickin’ the kids. You can’t jedge a hoss by his hide.”,
Jean changed the situation by proposing a toast to Billy’s new sister.
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With the gracious air of a duchess, Maria Mifsud dropped into the oat-bin about a peck of the vegetables. They were coiffured and manicured correctly and doubtless considered themselves the elite of the carota species.,
“No ‘chase’ to-day, girls. I’ve got business in town.”,
“Then he walked back as slowly and dignifiedly as a minister,—isn’t ‘dignifiedly’ an awkward word? I wonder if it is right?”,
Max was the first to be quite ready with his exhibit. It was a queer creature that one gradually discovered to be some sort of a bird; though such a one had never before been seen on land or sea. Max had arrayed his mother’s big white gander for the occasion. A turkey-tail fan made a huge breastplate, if one can imagine a breastplate of feathers. All the long-tailed roosters that had been killed in town for months, one would guess, had contributed to the coat of sprawling feathers that was tied over the body of the bird. And no one knew by what magic the boy had coaxed some one to lend him the magnificent peacock plumes that rose high above the little wiggling goose tail.
“Moses!” called husband and wife, simultaneously. Mrs. Wopp’s voice spanned an interval of about a dozen semi-tones, and as it always grew in volume in direct ratio to the emergency of the duty to be imposed, the last syllable of her son’s name fell on that wretched boy’s ear like a clap of thunder. Mr. Wopp’s accents remained on nearly all occasions at the same even degree of meekness. Nature had not given him the temperament to indulge in crescendos or double fortes.
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Developer Response,
“Well, papa did. If he was alive he’d be giving it to me about now, good and plenty.”
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“Oh, no; she must be Jean.”
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“O Billy,” his mother laughed, “you need not decide to-night. Besides, it was all Bess’s nonsense. I can’t quite imagine my heedless boy in a pulpit.”
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Halin-Chen Response,
>Mrs. Mifsud threw up her hands in dismay.
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