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CHAPTER II THE SATURDAY GANG 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. The child had been content to extract but fleeting moments of sweetness from the confection and as the weeks passed had in the time-honored custom kept the canes shining. Thus accumulated quite a bagful of the tempting sweets. These she sold to a haughty plutocrat at school for a dime. This coin of the realm made a pleasing clatter in her wooden box; but she reflected, not without some degree of logic, that ten cents would not go very far in carrying salvation to the suffering heathen in Africa..
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“The Labyrinth. It is only about sixty miles long. But in those sixty miles there are more rapids, and bad ones, than there are in all of the Grand Canyon. Well, I reckon there isn’t much chance of my ever tackling it.”I tried logging in using my phone number and I
was supposed to get a verification code text,but didn't
get it. I clicked resend a couple time, tried the "call
me instead" option twice but didn't get a call
either. the trouble shooting had no info on if the call
me instead fails.There was
“You are a good Dad!” cried Bob, putting an arm around the older man’s shoulders and hugging him unashamedly. “Whiskers—that is, Steve Whitney—wrote and told me to report to him as soon as I could. Then I have your permission to go West just as soon as school closes?”
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Conrad
Every back bent a little lower. Every face flushed a little rosier under its coat of grime. Praise from Billy was all they asked. “It’s been the best ever,” Jean said, happily. Then scartter seeds of kindness, “Do you need it right away?” Billy stood his wheel against the steps and flung his books on the porch table..
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