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“Don’t, mother! Mother, don’t come in here! Don’t come in the same room with me,—I’m not fit for— O mother, I’ve hurt Jimmy for life!” “Moses, here with that pie,” called the gratified Mrs. Wopp, “Yer par wants some.” “Mamma, Pretty’s finishing the lawn for me; can’t I rub the floors right now? The Gang’s coming and we want to do a lot to-day.”.
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kez_ h (Kez_h)
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“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!”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
CHAPTER XII.—THE AUTOGRAPH QUILT.
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Conrad
Moses adored his little foster-sister when she was well; but sick, his adoration turned to blind worship. For several days Betty had been ill. Moses’ religion, bottled up during care-free days, burst forth in foam of intercession for Betty’s return to health. “Shame on you Moses, rampagin’ an’ bellerin’ there like a gang of coyotes,” remonstrated his mother. Bess, though not quite twelve, was a striking girl, larger than most women; with a mind as unusual as her body. Poetry, music, mythology, she fed upon these as a plant upon the sunshine. She was not satisfied with ordinary speech, but continually wove into the most commonplace events the glamour of romance and poetic words. A wise mother had stood between her and the jeers of the thoughtless, that she might have a normal girlhood; and Billy’s mother and sister helped to make it possible for her to play comfortably with those of her own age. Yet it was a surprise to the stranger to see this dark-eyed, magnificent woman-creature in short skirts romping with children. “Good-by Dad and Mar and Mosey,” called Betty as she sped down the path toward the school-house..
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