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“Put some sunshine into your voices children,” admonished Nell. “I dassent do it, Betty,” replied Moses. “Anyhow this ole pair of scissors ’d do the job better.” Jethro, lying on a mat at the door, was contentedly gnawing a bone. Nancy, having finished her milk, and still enjoying its flavor from her whiskers, as Betty remarked, stealthily approached her canine playmate. A slight altercation took place concerning the ownership of the bone. It was not long before Jethro walked out of the room, perceptibly toeing in, and probably reflecting that life was too short to wrangle over a bare bone anyway..
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Why, it was going to be fine to work! Why had she not known it before? St. Elmo Mifsud, his angelic face framed in silky curls, now became the prey to the machinations of Pete Solway, who had eluded the vigilant eye of Mrs. Wopp during her dramatic recital. A roar of pain escaped the child as a sharp tweak was applied to his curls. Recalled to matters entirely mundane, the teacher administered severe reproof. “Can he mean ‘prodigy,’ do you think, May Nell?” Edith’s eyes were mischievous. She clapped him into her own warm bed, and incredibly soon things were sizzling over the alcohol lamp..
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