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The strains of “Red Wing” having died away, Mrs. Wopp busied herself setting up the crokinole board. “Me and Par won’t play, jist the young folks,” she announced. “Oh ’bout the fairies an’ stars an’ lovely things that grownups know nothin’ about.” ‘The antlered monarch of the waste.
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Conrad
Although the temptation to reckless haste was great, Betty resisted it. It was not long, however, before a pile of shining blue willow-ware was restored to its accustomed place on the oil-cloth-covered pantry shelves, and Betty, seizing her sunbonnet, hurried out of doors. George nudged Jimmy. “Hit again, Sour. Come on.” The two boys went out, mysteriously embarrassed. “I’ll make a note of that, Lize.” “Betty dimples in an’ out, like Mar’s dough,” he remarked, joyously, “she’s shore gittin’ better.”.
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