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The little girl forgot herself in watching them, till Billy came in, smart and almost handsome in his best suit. “Did you forget their breakfast, Billy?” the child questioned earnestly. “Gosh! Wisht Betty was here right this minute. Mebbe I’m dyin’. Hope nobody starts twangin’ a harp. My nose is worser’n ever!”.
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Conrad
Bouncer tied? That red handkerchief! The boy went cold and pale. Before he looked he knew that May Nell was not there. He turned his white face to the others as they came up. “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. Mrs. Wopp surmised from the dejected appearance of the young rancher, coupled with the smiles over the footlights which she had observed with rising wrath, that trouble was brewing, and she whispered audibly to herself, “A musician’s orl right on a pianner stool, but when it comes to gittin’ up in the mornin’ an’ choppin’ wood to bile the kettle give me a farmer.” Her cogitations became louder. “I s’pose he thinks cos he has a percession of carpital letters arter his name he can git anyone fer the arskin’. When he smiled so at our Miss Gordon I could of slain him with the jawrbone of an arss.” In her championship of Howard’s interests, Mrs. Wopp became an ardent villifier of the pianist and she administered an oral castigation with feminine vigor. “Yeh,” scoffed Moses, “this here turnin’ machines every Monday makes me sick. I aint got no liver left to be cheerful.”.
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