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“No, no! They’ll kill us!”,

Off she darted followed by Howard. The horses swept over the smooth turf in long easy strides, gradually increasing in speed as pinto and chestnut realized that this was a trial of fleetness. It was glorious, but presently Nell, remembering Moses’ parting injunctions in regard to his beloved pinto, pulled up. “Next time, Ladybird, we will win never fear,” she said consolingly, patting the horse’s sleek neck.,

“St. Elmo’s lost, Ma,” wailed Maria. “We can’t find him and he’s wandered down the creek.”,

“Bully for you, Ladybird. I’ve got a backer you see, sister.”

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If he had been older he would have said he had “the blues.” Yet probably he would not have known that his mental—and physical—condition was a natural result of the long strain of previous weeks. All the children felt it. That morning the cousins, Clarence and Harry, who loved each other dearly, had come to blows in the Sunday School room before the teachers arrived, over the question of which one of them should marry Miss Edith. Clarence received a bloody scratch the full length of his palm from Harry’s Band of Mercy pin; while the careful parting disappeared from his own hair, and a red splotch marred the whiteness of his wide collar. No one can tell what further calamity might have happened had not the Twins opportunely arrived and questioned of the quarrel.,

In a few days the sight of his wife wrapped in a shawl the color of an unripe cucumber had a rejuvenating influence upon Ebenezer Wopp. He did not say much, being a man of few words, but his sentiments were inscribed in cramped illegible writing on a slip of paper to be handed down to posterity.,

“I carn’t think what’s happened to my carrots this year,” said Mrs. Wopp, vexedly, after a time. “Hardly any hev come up, an’ them as did come, aint growed much. We’ll shorely not hev many carrot puddin’s nor pies this winter, nor mulligans neither.” The concluding part of this speech was of vital interest to Moses, who delighted in all the delicacies mentioned.,

Billy ran off full of vague expectation born of his mother’s smile. No one in all the country round, not even Harold Prettyman, whose father had the finest farm in Vine County, had such a splendid place to play as the Bennetts’ back lot that sloped down to Runa Creek. As Billy slammed the gate and bounded out on a huge boulder that hung over the creek, a sounding cheer greeted him from below.