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“Arsk a dorg with a tin pail tied to his ear to smile at yer,” returned Moses, sourly. Inside the church matters were beginning to resume a normal condition. But Mr. Wells still badly shaken and feeling unable to proceed announced, “My friends we will conclude our service with a hymn. Will some one suggest a suitable one.” “Bully fer you, ’s Gordon,” shouted the excited Moses leaping furiously. “Keep her goin’. Ole Dan Tucker jist fits that toon.”.
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Conrad
“You look like some kind-faced happygo-lucky cow, chewin’ her cud,” teased Mrs. Wopp, standing at the parlor door and noting the reminiscent moving of her son’s jaws. The travellers passed on; he righted his wheel and began his slow, painful way home. It was still cloudy and the welcome darkness setting in early, shrouded him as he slipped down the least public streets and alleys to his own side gate. He put his wheel away, fed his chickens,—though they had gone to roost,—went to the cellar and brought meat and milk for dog and cats, and reconnoitred the way to the Fo’castle. “Why, I wonder? She used to watch us at it and laugh.” “I suppose you have a large farm, Mr. Wopp,” said Nell Gordon..
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