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What more might he do to hasten the Saturday work? He could not chop the kindling or fill the wood boxes. The weeding! It was behind. Both mother and sister had reminded him repeatedly, but he had forgotten. Only yesterday his sister had made tidy the flower beds that flanked the house; but the melons, the vegetables,—they were not done, and that would make no noise. Betty was trying to keep up the engaging flow of talk but the dance proved to require all her attention. “This here thing looks like a mule with his ribs druv in an’ stan’in’ on his haunches. What d’ye call it?”.
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Conrad
“’Cause I love you, ’n’ I hope the edges’ll be all pink like my mornin’-glories.” “Why, ma, the children are quite respectable; I know all their mothers.” Buzz’s mamma looked a little mischievous. When the party reached the house and St. Elmo had been received with every manifestation of joy, Mr. Wopp in one burst of eloquence explained how his boy Moses had found him. Moses, the hero of the hour, stood abashed before the encomiums of Mrs. Mifsud. He twirled his hat at a fearful rate on his doubled fist, standing awkwardly on one foot the while. “Oh, he is a wonderful piannerist,” explained Betty. “He played, Oh, jist lovely, jist like birds singin’ an’ rivers runnin’ an’ the sun shinin’. But arfter he played he looked so fierce I was skeered of him. Miss Gordon didn’t like him either, arfter she got knowin’ him better.”.
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