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As the evening wore on Mrs. Wopp, Mrs. Stephens and a few other ladies adjourned to a box stall where the refreshments were stored. Pleased with the prospect of dispensing lavish hospitality from the combined larders of the neighborhood, Mrs. Wopp’s face radiated cheerfulness. “Clarence will tell the men where to instal their teams,” the hostess reflected. The boy, who had fought shy of this mere woman’s party, had spent the afternoon in the barn. “Not till evening; but there’s the lawn.”.
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kez_ h (Kez_h)
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Conrad
Billy ducked his head into the cooling water, filled his mouth, and ran on. He could hear the painful breathing of the prisoners bearing the chest. It looked heavy, and he knew it was hard to carry, walking single file down the steep trail. How awfully they must feel, Billy thought. It was like the children in the fiery furnace. Did the men see that this was a tragic beginning of the just penalty for their sins? Cheats! Robbers! No, not robbers, boldly[221] risking life for booty, but cunning thieves, stealing from their fellow men, from widows, orphans, perhaps from his own mother; she had taken a counterfeit piece only a little while before. Vina was no exception. Ball games, church collections, children’s mite societies, girls sewing, boys running errands, each and all helped with the relief work. “Oh, oh! It ran—across my—foot!” she gasped, and fell over. The disgusted artist got up and with a huge hand wiped his handkerchief across his perspiring brow. He was short and very thick set, with prominent forehead, bulging black eyes, coarse nose, thick red lips..
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