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“Here Mosey,” said Betty, “is a tin crown. You can fasten it on with this wire. See?” In a few minutes Moses again touched the man’s elbow, “Say, Mister, I come to arsk yer parding fer larfin’ at yer, but, Glory be! I couldn’t help it. My curtings never rolled up on a funnier sight.” “What is Fuji Mamas?”.
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Conrad
Moses adored his little foster-sister when she was well; but sick, his adoration turned to blind worship. For several days Betty had been ill. Moses’ religion, bottled up during care-free days, burst forth in foam of intercession for Betty’s return to health. “Moses, yer manners is shockin’, did you expect to be sarved the best piece when company’s here?” Moses stared, wondering at this unusual compliment. “But I don’t wish May Nell away, mother, do you?”.
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