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“Why, I wonder? She used to watch us at it and laugh.” “Arsk a dorg with a tin pail tied to his ear to smile at yer,” returned Moses, sourly. “Did you hev a good time in the city larst week, Mis’ Mifsud?” asked Mrs. Wopp, politely..
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“You had very soon to fight for the Douglases, didn’t you, Roderick Dhu?” she said, as Mrs. Bennett covered her with an apron, and Billy took her up and went toward the house. “Would you like to live in the city?” A dull yellow glow from the kerosene lamp, placed by Moses on the bureau, lighted up the figure of Betty reclining on snowy pillows. On one side of her was seated Howard, his arm about the drowsy child. On the side of the bed, squarely seated on one of Mrs. Wopp’s texts worked into the patchwork quilt, was Nell, watching the little pallid face and trying to avoid the eyes of her silent lover. “Oh, Billy To-morrow! You won’t have half time enough to play. You’re a regular Mexican,—always mañana!”.
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