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“Alfred the Grate was a good king. He had a lot of trubel in his rane. The Danes had come to Ingland and peeple did not no how to read and rite. He bilt some skools and men called munks showed the peeple how to read and rite the Danes were very crool they killed a lot of men and Alfred the Grate had to run away and hide in a slew. One day a woman where he horded asked him to turn some pancakes and King Alfred the Grate forgot to turn the pancakes and they were burnt and the woman boxed his ears and would not bord him no more. Alfred the Grate beet the Danes.” A mile or two down the creek the searching party sought diligently for the little lost boy. Moses was in the lead. He had announced his adamant resolve to find St. Elmo, or perform the irrevocable feat of “bustin’.” He cherished an idea of his own as to the child’s whereabouts. A few weeks previously, on an all-day excursion, Moses had played pirates with St. Elmo and they had utilized a most delectable earthy cave for their game. “I kin tell you, Mrs. Wopp. He met with an accident comin’ over. He was gittin’ through Abe Bower’s wire fence to save goin’ round by the gate when Ben Bower’s bull-dog ‘Jeff’ caught sight of him. Next minute Joe seen the bull-dog comin’ an’ started back through the fence. Land sakes! The tear he got in the seat of his pants was somethin’ shockin’.”.

“They smell like the sunbeams was sprinklin’ them with scent,” she declared as she and Moses brought the last basketful into the house. Mrs. Wopp’s nightgown of ample proportions was left out a little longer being still somewhat damp.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 “St. Elmo’s lost, Ma,” wailed Maria. “We can’t find him and he’s wandered down the creek.”

“Biff on the eye!” she cried. May Nell sat still and smiled modestly. Billy stared at her, feeling still more foolish over his own mistake. “Oh, Mosey, she un’erstan’s everything, she’s jist wonderful.” Betty’s voice was positive. “I was ten in January, the twelfth,” May Nell replied, with no pride in her tone; she was always older than those of her size. Yet she was not prepared for the gasps and backward movement of the twins..