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His fork having safely landed its cargo, Mr. Wopp laid it carefully down and remarking, “I must make a note of that,” he began to inscribe Nell’s diplomatic request. As he leaned over the paper, his head shone like a round china lamp-shade, its shining expanse relieved here and there, by long wisps of grey hair. “Moses, I hear yer Par comin’ with the hay,” announced Mrs. Wopp, suddenly. “You’ll hev to go help him with it.” CHAPTER XII.—THE AUTOGRAPH QUILT..
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“Please, Mister, my nose was bleedin’ an’ I lorst my way lookin’ fer warter, an’ here I am on Jording’s stormy banks.” “And could he beat the old gentleman?” inquired Nell Gordon, vastly entertained. “Let ’em come. What do I care for Sour ’n Shifty? I’ll never desert Micawber this near success.” He rubbed on calmly, and the two boys came in at the open door. “You romp!” came the disgusted voice once more. “You’d better cut your hair, and your skirts, and be a child again.”.
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