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The strains of “Red Wing” having died away, Mrs. Wopp busied herself setting up the crokinole board. “Me and Par won’t play, jist the young folks,” she announced. “We must go right back,” Jimmy declared, turning to the door of the kitchen and thrusting a package within. But Mrs. Bennett wasn’t blaming any one; she didn’t really know what the excitement was all about..
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Conrad
Moses’ opinion, repressed, however, in his bursting bosom, was of a like complexion, only much more vivid. He was hesitating between the liquid verge of tears and the lambent verge of profane utterance. “All right,” Billy acquiesced with a nonchalant tact; “I thought Sour’n Shifty’d make good surveyors, Pretty; but I guess you can do that an’ your own job too, can’t you?” Billy turned to Harold, while George watched to see what Jimmy did. In the matter of the next adventure, Moses’ feet were fast approaching that degree known as freezing point. But spurred on by the resolute will of his sister he rose to the occasion of a chariot race, adapted from “Ben Hur.” They had never forgotten the thrill they had experienced when one day at Mrs. Mifsud’s house the nephew of that good lady, with city-bred art, had recited in melodramatic fashion “Ben Hur’s Chariot Race.” “Well I’m not going to stay an’ play kid games,” Jimmy retorted loftily, and turned away..
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