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“This milk happens to be cream. I’ve been wondering what kind of a dessert will take all this.” Everything was going smoothly when suddenly a catastrophe stopped short the circus, and left Moses greatly distressed. He inwardly complained that never yet was he “havin’ a good time but some orful thing happened to put a cloud over the sun.” The hens and chickens that had been pressed into the ranks of the circus performers were crowding round a swill-bucket which Moses had left tilted at a precarious angle on an upturned soap-box. In its zig-zag gyrations round the yard, the ostrich, to avoid the ubiquitous fowl, ran against the bucket and the odoriferous contents were splashed over the yellow-draped circus lady. The contents of the swill-pail trickled down Betty’s finery and dropped sadly from the pink headgear of the ostrich. “S’posin’ the pore little critter’s hidin’ there, shiverin’ an’ chatterin’, afeerd o’ them orful pirates,” he soliloquised, while large drops of moisture gathered on his brow at the thought. As he hurried along he encountered a branch which hung low and like a scalpel lifted the straw hat from the head of the astonished boy..

The little girl forgot herself in watching them, till Billy came in, smart and almost handsome in his best suit.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 Moses’ face became as mournful as his music had been. It was as though he had suddenly realized that life was, after all, more serious than one suspects in one’s idle moments.

“What’s the matter with Billy To-morrow? He’s thirteen! Three and ten! Most a man! He’s all right!” “To-morrer’ll see my revenge,” growled Moses, now thoroughly roused to action under the protection of his own roof. It must have been hours past midnight when Billy’s chattering voice startled his mother. She had heard no bell; the boy himself stood by her bedside; she could see him dimly against the window. “Anyhow, Mar, that fust punkin pie Par got was a howlin’ success.”.