Maurice's white face slowly expanded in a grin. He glanced in the direction of his mother, then held out his hand to the crow with a lowspoken, "Come Croaker, ol' feller.",
And the worthy old lady's eyes grew dim as she pronounced the words "our Lucy.",
"There's no maybe about it, far's you're concerned. Do as I tell you; slide it 'way back so's it'll tighten your throat. That's right," as Maurice heroically obeyed. "Now, let's get up to the house.".
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