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Up, up Billy climbed. On the bare spaces, or balanced on the point of some slender rock, he stopped frequently to look down on the beautiful valley below; on little farms laid out checker-board fashion, dark green squares for orchards, lighter green for vineyards, with tree-lined lanes running between. Overhead fleecy clouds chased one another like freshly washed, woolly sheep across the blue pasture of the heavens. In the north the great blue mountain loomed, all its opalescent tints and shadows hidden till the setting of the sun should light them forth. Jean, too, crossed the little bridge, climbed the fence, mounted her wheel, and rolled off down the dusty road. To the melody of the shining bells, Betty dropped off to sleep..
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Conrad
“Oh, Billy, how could you, when mother has so much to do?” It was his sister, Edith, who spoke, her sweet face clouded with rare disapproval. Yet she went on with the music lesson she was giving. “Not a bit!” His words were strangely impatient. “I’ve got to find her!” He started past them. “Elmo saw some gween and white faywies,” he fabricated, “and wanted Mudgie to see them too.” He threw himself on the bed and wept the bitterest tears he had ever shed in his life, tears of shame. There he lay—hours, he thought—determined to bear his pain and disgrace alone. Yet it was only minutes when he heard his mother in her room, coming!.
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