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“Wisht that orful pitcher ’d fall inter the swill-pail an’ then turn a somerset in the soot-pile,” murmured the boy as he noticed the care exercised over its safety. The bottle went crash, and a furious yell informed the neighborhood that the Gang was “up to some new deviltry.” If I only had an Idean vine; what is it, Billy?”.
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Conrad
“Be keerful how you shoot that checker Betty or we’re goin’ to git beat,” admonished Moses. He found himself opposed to no mean antagonists. “Stop that there ‘Dead March of Saul,’ an’ go put on yer overalls,” ordered Mrs. Wopp, “what’s the idear of the gardenin’ tool, go git the littlest shovel to put inter the chimbly, an’ don’t let the grass grow under yer feet, neither.” “What’s the trouble, dear? What were you afraid of?” she enquired, as she raised him to his feet. CHAPTER VI.—AN EVENING IN THE WOPP PARLOR..
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