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“What is it called?” “I’m fairly out of my wits with joy,” replied Grandmother. “Better not let go one hand till you get another hold!” cautioned Jerry. “It’s mighty slippery.”.
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Conrad
“Humph! It’s very likely that they paid their respects to such a great man as you!” said Olea. “Why, what have you done to your face, John? You have a big scratch there.” “Such rough shaking, I don’t like. You must pick the apples.” There came a year of bad harvest, and the famine was so severe that these poor people determined to get rid of their children. One evening, when they were all in bed, and the woodcutter was sitting over the fire with his wife, he said to her, with an aching heart, "You see plainly that we can no longer find food for our children. I cannot let them die of hunger before my very eyes, and I have made up my mind to take them to the wood to-morrow, and there lose them, which will be easily done, for whilst they are busy tying up the faggots, we have only to run away unseen by them." "Ah!" exclaimed the woodcutter's wife, "Can you find the heart to lose your own children?" In vain her husband represented to her their great poverty; she would not consent to the deed. She was poor, but she was their mother. After a while, however, having thought over the misery it would be to her to see them die of hunger, she assented to her husband's proposal, and went weeping to bed..
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