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A period of silence followed excepting for the slight sounds made by the workers, the drowsy humming of flies, the murmur of an occasional bee and the faint rustlings of the tall stalks of corn. “Moses,” she directed, “git an empty apple-box fer the burnt orfferin’s.” “Oh Mar,” asked Moses as they passed a brilliantly colored and illuminated poster, “Is them the actor people?”.
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kez_ h (Kez_h)
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⚡ Seize the Opportunity Register Today!I tried logging in using my phone number and I
was supposed to get a verification code text,but didn't
get it. I clicked resend a couple time, tried the "call
me instead" option twice but didn't get a call
either. the trouble shooting had no info on if the call
me instead fails.There was
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Conrad
It was Saturday afternoon on a busy street in the city. Moses Wopp and Clarence Crump, at whose home the former was spending the week end, were on their way to the skating-rink. If they had wanted to skate there, the streets would have accommodated them with a sufficiently smooth surface, as an early frost had rimed the pavement. He tidied himself, bade his mother good-bye, and followed the girls to rehearsal. As ordered two of the posse were closing in from the west toward the rendezvous. A few more steps and the four met. Those who had been ordered to beat the mountain about the spring were waiting below; the fire had perfectly policed that territory. “Betty dimples in an’ out, like Mar’s dough,” he remarked, joyously, “she’s shore gittin’ better.”.
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