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“Mamma, Pretty’s finishing the lawn for me; can’t I rub the floors right now? The Gang’s coming and we want to do a lot to-day.”,“The bulliest time yet!” shouted Charley from the street.,"Is it?" says she, a little wistfully. "You think so now; but if afterwards you should know regret, or——",Instantly there was a storm of hisses and protests; the four next inquisitors jumped to their feet and down from the model stand with one motion, crying that it was a shame that the fun was spoiled and that they had all had enough for one night.,Several hands waved wildly and a chorus of voices eagerly broke in; through the childish babel could be heard a lisping narrative.,'My days,' continued the marchioness, 'passed in a dead uniformity, more dreadful than the most acute vicissitudes of misfortune, and which would certainly have subdued my reason, had not those firm principles of religious faith, which I imbibed in early youth, enabled me to withstand the still, but forceful pressure of my calamity.,"Does he really?" asks Mona, with eyes wide open. "I am sure if I ever meet your brother Nick I shall be dreadfully afraid of him.",Oh! there was the big English coal steamer that had been lying at the wharf several days unloading coal. Too bad that he had not had a chance to go on board that steamer! He had tried to go a number of times, but there was always one or another grimy sailor who chased him ashore. Ugh! Englishmen were horrid! The steamer was unloaded now and would surely sail tonight.,"Oh, you have him!" says Mona, with a beaming smile, that is not reciprocated by the captured turkey. "Hold him tight: you have no idea how artful he is. Sure I knew you'd get him, if any one could!","Go in presently and see if she's done, and ask if she'll have some fruit pie or cake, and report if the tray is still on the deck.","Not so much so that I cannot help you to cross over in safety, if you will only trust yourself to me," replies he.,He was half-clothed, pale as the white dress of Isabella Dallas, and evidently, from the wild look in his eyes and the quivering of his nether lip, badly scared. Stopping short a few paces from the door, he held up the lamp which he carried, to survey the astonishing scene before him. The sight of Jen tongue-tied and immovable, of Isabella weeping on her knees by the bedside, of the bed itself vacant of its dead occupant--all these things were calculated to shock even stronger nerves than those of David Sarby. Nevertheless, after a pause of sheer astonishment, he managed to stammer out a question:.