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As the party, now restored to composure, left the garden, Mrs. Mifsud remarked with her usual aptness, “I occasionally experience premonitions, Mrs. Wopp, that St. Elmo will some day attain celebrity as a clairvoyant.” “In a minute I heard the teentiest little mew. I looked and there was Tom crouched against the side of the house. He was shivering with fright, and that old tramp cat was eating up his breakfast.” “It was shore a wonder, with the band playin’ an’ all. I never heard sich moosic, not sence the circus.”.
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Conrad
“All right Lize, I’ll jist make a note of that.” In the meantime Mr. Wopp sitting precariously on the edge of the sofa was examining for at least the two-hundredth time the red plush album which contained the records of the Wopp family, past and present, in picture form. He looked long and earnestly at a tin-type representing a plump, velvet-coated, mop-haired boy of twelve. He sighed deeply. “I am not going to let you see any more compositions,” exclaimed Nell, “You are just making fun of my poor children.” “Avaunt, hesitating noddy! The angel child is quite safe!” Bess waved an arm, partly bare and brown in spots..
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