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The coulee was a sheltered nook when bitter winds swept the higher grounds above; it was cool when scorching heat yellowed the grasses of the plain.,
CHAPTER VIII.—BETTY VISITS THE CITY OF HER DREAMS.,
Innocuous as this remark might seem, it caused St. Elmo’s lip to quiver and two large tears started on their grimy course down his cheeks.,
“Billy, ask Mr. Patton to let her come to your house! There aren’t any boys.” Jean’s voice trembled with eagerness.
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“‘The sturdy oak and ash unite’;,
“Why, Buzz Lancaster, how did you get here?” Edith went back and steadied him over the uneven ground. “Phew! He smells of gasoline! Where has he been, do you suppose, mother?”,
“The bulliest time yet!” shouted Charley from the street.,
Presently they came to others of the posse, and after that to a long line of farmers and other citizens, fighting desperately but successfully against the dying flames.
The Wopp family had two domestic pets, a plump tortoise-shell cat called Nancy, and a black and white terrier named Jethro, after the father-in-law of Moses, the great law-giver.
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“I knew it!” Billy panted feverishly. “The Ha’nt!” Heedless of the dog running with his nose close to the ground, Billy rushed on. His shirt was torn, his trousers hanging by one suspender, his shoes cut and one tap turned back. Ashes whitened his hair; though at the back a dark mat was still damp from oozing blood,—the handkerchief that had bound it had been torn off by a twitching twig. His smarting eyes watered so that he could hardly see his way. Yet of all this he was unconscious. Weariness, pain, his cracked and bleeding lips,—he knew nothing of them, felt nothing.
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m2dxy-Wong,
It’s a Quan-Yuan
They all went off, a merry, noisy troop. And the disappearing sun was the last to say to Billy “Good-night.”
e0clh-Xu,
Bingbing-Li
THE day was fine. Billy, not long released from his green shade, wondered if the world was ever so lovely before; the flowers so sweet, the birds so joyous. Could it be only a few short weeks since that gray Sunday? Billy’s confinement had quickened him, introduced him to himself; now he looked on life with wider eyes, with a more understanding heart.
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Halin-Chen Response,
>St. Elmo’s face brightened with intelligence. He broke into the story to give a graphic account of how a little yellow chicken of his sister’s had got “dwownded” in the pig-trough.
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