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“Do you like it, Sunday School, I mean? I don’t. I like church, though,—the great booming organ, the beautiful singing. And when the minister speaks I just float away into fairy-land and never come back till he says, ‘The-Lord-make-his-face-to-shine-upon-us-amen.’” “Arsk a blessin’, Ebenezer.” “As soon as I get out of this,” Billy went on, after a short silence, “I’ll go over and fix up Ellen’s Isle for you and Lady Margaret. We can have.
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Conrad
“Not in the house; in this room, yes.” “You’re a brilliant youth Moses,” smiled Howard approvingly, “and sure to get on in life. You don’t appreciate your own cleverness half as much as I do.” The basket piled high with snowy linen and cotton seemed almost to overflow the brim. Betty pressed the clothes down with her brown hands, while the complaining boy enlarged on the sordid details of that trying wash-day and on the manner in which his mother had teased him. The child’s sense of humor outbalanced even her sympathy and a peal of laughter rang out. Her laugh was a long delicious trill, as though a bird had dropped from the clouds singing still with the sunrise tangled in its notes. Moses paused long enough for a procession of commas and semicolons to pass by. Then seeing his disappointment in her apparent lack of sympathy, Betty hastened to console him. Billy halted and looked up into the threatening sky. His eyes twitched, and he noticed wonderingly that his breath was short and his hand shook on the handle-bar. He dismounted and propped his wheel against the fence; climbed down to the river and sat on a projecting rock, with his feet dangling near the water..
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