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“Aint it amazin’ how hungry one gits,” hoarsely remarked Mr. Wopp who had not spoken for some time owing to close application to the task in hand. “Lize, I want a piece of that punkin pie of yourn.” Here he caressed the bulging buttons on his waistcoat. “My mouth’s waterin’ fer it an’ I b’lieve I hev room.” “What’s the Golden Text, Norer?” They all went off, a merry, noisy troop. And the disappearing sun was the last to say to Billy “Good-night.”.
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Conrad
Saw when you work in the back woodshed.” “Miss Gordon here, made me a harnsome lace yoke fer an underwaist, an’ give it to me fer my birthday,” volunteered Mrs. Wopp. “She has a music class in Loma; and it isn’t dreamland, either, teaching; but she has to earn grub for me, sister does.” The frank statement of a truth he had grown accustomed to this morning roused a feeling of shame, and he gazed steadily at his plate. “First they feed the cow a barrel of sugar, then they freeze her, after that milk her; and there you have your ice cream.”.
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