“O mother, how can there be joy if life is all work and never any fun?” He took her hand and pressed it against his cheek.,
“O, Mar, jist a teeny-weeny brown crust, it carn’t hurt me.”,
Having disposed of the song, dear to her mother’s heart, in spite of the protestations of Moses, Betty went to the kitchen and in a few moments returned with a steaming pot of tea..
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