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But another and unexpected crash followed, and a shower of burning oil shot up and caught May Nell’s flimsy paper frock. “Oh, please, Mrs. Lancaster,” Billy coaxed. “The circus won’t be any circus at all without Buzz. We’re to have him for a side show after the performance. We’ve advertised him,” Billy pleaded well. “Here! Sit down on the bank.” Billy himself was trembling so he felt it safer to see Jimmy sitting. “I’ll get—Twinnies, run, run to the tank and wet your handkerchief. Quick!”.
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kez_ h (Kez_h)
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Conrad
“Hold your grouch, Sour,” Harold expostulated. Moses began cutting make-believe tickets using the paper and scissors thrust into his hand by the capable manageress of the show. Edith worked very hard. She called her operetta “The Triumph of Flora.” The words were her own, written hurriedly and set to familiar though classic airs. Yet many of the daintiest, most tripping melodies she wrote herself. The sorrows of humanity had winged her brain and dipped her pen in harmonies, that she might assuage them. she quoted glibly. “I know a lot more of it. Do you?”.
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