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“Can you drive?” he asked, anxiously, as he unhitched the horse. He noticed with a second sinking feeling that Jimmy’s face twitched with pain, that his right arm hung limp. As the stove door opened for the intrepid Moses, out flew Tillie the white bantam hen now as black as a crow with soot. She fluttered into the face of Moses who was kneeling before the stove. “Leave the boy be, Lize,” directed Ebenezer Wopp, whom the pride-inspiring events of the evening had rendered more self-assertive than usual. “He aint crowin’ none, an’ what he done brung credit to the hullo’ us.”.
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Conrad
“You romp!” came the disgusted voice once more. “You’d better cut your hair, and your skirts, and be a child again.” In the meantime Mr. Wopp sitting precariously on the edge of the sofa was examining for at least the two-hundredth time the red plush album which contained the records of the Wopp family, past and present, in picture form. He looked long and earnestly at a tin-type representing a plump, velvet-coated, mop-haired boy of twelve. He sighed deeply. Clank! Clank! Clank! If I only had an Idean vine; what is it, Billy?”.
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