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“Can he mean ‘prodigy,’ do you think, May Nell?” Edith’s eyes were mischievous. “Ugh! Confound their impudence, I’ll make them listen yet to something else than rag.” “Sharpen these pencils, Moses, please, for the drawing lesson.”.

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“Say, little kid, what’s your name?” he asked, merrily, as he routed a great white cat from his own chair and placed it before the fire for the child. To-day she was happy. It had fallen to her to general this great feast that Billy’s mates had planned for the celebration of his birthday. All had contributed. Not only the girls had cooked—Jean had baked a big cake, Jackson had made the candy, and Jimmy and George had sneaked up from the “Front,” and set up the long table in the arbor. “I think you’ve broke my neck, kid,” he said, feebly, as quaking Billy helped him to his feet. What more might he do to hasten the Saturday work? He could not chop the kindling or fill the wood boxes. The weeding! It was behind. Both mother and sister had reminded him repeatedly, but he had forgotten. Only yesterday his sister had made tidy the flower beds that flanked the house; but the melons, the vegetables,—they were not done, and that would make no noise..