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“Bring him here.” The man stepped out and laid his hand on a sapling that grew beside the Lodge. May Nell followed with the dog. A small stove had been set up in the improvised kitchen, and a big boiler filled with water. This was now boiling furiously and the ladies proceeded to make the coffee. Cakes and pies were cut, cups and saucers were piled in one huge basket and sandwiches in another. “Please,” answered the discomfited youth, “I aint never seen a ship of no kind.”.

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“Land o’ Goshen, child,” shrieked Mrs. Wopp throwing up her hands in dismay, “whatever hev you been doin’ to yerself. You look jist like a wooden Injin. I wouldn’t of knowed you ef I’d met you in the streets of Judear.” In the short moments that had passed since their coming the Sheriff saw that the fire had gained perilously. Instead of sparks great flaming brands dropped all around them; the crests of the ravine were sheets of fire that swept downward, wrapping every tree and shrub in their path, making of the pines huge towers of flame. Yet almost before the prayer was breathed the child with incredible swiftness scudded across the bending board and stood safe by his side! It was Mrs. Wopp’s voice. From her remarks one would gather that the rarest perfumes wafted on the winds invoked by Solomon could never seem so sweet to Woppian nostrils as the mingled odor of hay and freshly dug carrots..