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“This milk happens to be cream. I’ve been wondering what kind of a dessert will take all this.” “Don’t care a doughnut,” answered Moses defiantly, “I’d ruther turn the washin’ machine any day than stand like a goose spellin’ words any arss can spell.” With a supreme effort he straightened his arms just as the board reached the level of the sill, pushed it forward with all his might; and—it caught! Caught by an inch or less!.

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“Yer a limb o’ Satan orl right. The shawl was needin’ dyein’ anyway. I’ll jist make it green. Yer Par used to say I looked right harnsome in green, so I’ll s’prise him with a new shawl over my shoulders.” She turned to the dog. The strenuous exertions of the afternoon had noticeably reduced his girth. “Well, Moses,” queried his genial host at the supper table, “did the skating go pretty good to-day?” But at last they got under way and proceeded as quietly as possible down the back street to the home of Mrs. Lancaster, where Buzz, as the “Prize Baby of Vine County,” awaited them in his car, which was very handsome,—one would never have dreamed it was only a large wash-tub strapped to a coaster; flowers and cloth do make such wonderful changes if handled with art! Billy looked up at the Italian, saw him take a pistol from his pocket, discharge it in the air, replace it, and go calmly on with his work. What could that be for? A warning? Yes; for he realized suddenly that every sound in the house had ceased. The wagon passed from sight. He could hear the voices of the men as they drove by, see the driver pointing to the house with his whip; and one of the women on the rear seat looked back as long as the house could be seen. Then the soft mysterious sounds began again..