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“Not arf as smart as a magpie,” dissented Moses, “I’ve saw magpies that c’d think up the scheminest things.” Moses was beginning to suffer from a surfeit of information and wanted to make a break in the proceedings. “A dose of senner tea’ll fix that, my boy,” was Mrs. Wopp’s cheerful rejoinder. A loud whisper from Pete Stolway disturbed the orator..
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“Where is the dern dog hurt?” commiserated Moses. Moses came bearing an achievement of spicy, opaque amber supported and surrounded by tantalizing, toast-brown crust. Before the expectant Mr. Wopp, however, had time to note these details, there was a quick rush of a small black and white object, a crash, some ear-splitting howls, as Moses, pie, Jethro, and one of Mrs. Wopp’s best blue dinner plates were precipitated against Mr. Wopp’s legs. Down his Sunday trousers meandered a yellow glacier which Mrs. Wopp regarded with dismay. “Was it dark for Joner inside the whale?” asked Pete Stolway, who noted his father viewing him through the gaping curtain and wished to appear in earnest conversation with his instructor. “Hooray, Billy! Thirteen to-morrow! But this is the day we celebrate!”.
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