Bet9jal

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Every morning during the summer a bunch of morning-glories, wet with dew, adorned the breakfast table. Blue and pink and white, they seemed the very spirit of morning freshness and sweetness.,

“You have, you have, dear baby! I’ll be your mother, and you can call me ‘mamma’ as Billy does.”,

“Yes, I can see that the wind, the shaking tower, the creaking mill, would bring such dreams,” his mother said. “Hear the wind howl now!”,

The Sheriff wondered at the boy’s vehemence, yet was too busy loading the wagon to pay much attention to him. “Think you’re fit, sonny? You look all in. Better ride to town—we’ll send some one for the little girl.”

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Ebenezer Wopp sat at the head of the table. Beaming from behind a promising array of cups and saucers, his portly wife presented a countenance of aggressive hospitality. In height and girth Mrs. Wopp had much the advantage of her husband.,

A scream from “the shack” stopped further quotations. Billy ran up the hill to learn the trouble. Only Evelyn was there in the little house built, half of boards, half of willow twigs woven lattice-wise, against a huge smooth rock. Beside this rock also ascended a cobble chimney; and the fireplace, roughly plastered, served its purpose well. Billy had made it all, and Edith wished the house fireplace would draw as well.,

Now in the silence and fragrance his tightened springs began to relax. Presently he found himself in a dream of possibilities of the island,—Ellen’s Isle, he always called it; of what might be done with the smooth places in the river, the hills, Sunol Creek not far away, boiling and tumbling in boisterous beauty; of hidden nooks, piled boulders, and tiny meadows, vine-enclosed and flower-fragrant.,

Thus interrogated, the boy who had caught but one fleeting word of the sentence, reddened, and shuffling his feet, said he’d “often rode a wild cayuse.”