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“You want to help the Big Boss?”,"We'll be here," promised Madalon, following her sister's example. "We'll have to miss lunch and the Senior dance, but what's a mere dance compared to helping a neighbor say farewell to their happy little home. Look for us at twelve-thirty sharp and prepare an extra mess of pottage, for we'll both be fearfully hungry. Tell David and Tom Hughes we'll come in on the same train they do. Good-bye, be good till Saturday and then we'll all be happy.",Patricia flung off the encircling arms, and was on her feet in an instant.,"Think he'll do for that future helpmeet you're expecting to turn up any old day, Judy?" Patricia mischievously whispered back.,"Yes, my mother was. So you see, major, she could not have dropped the handkerchief in the bedroom of poor dear Maurice.",She turned to receive the congratulations that crowded on her, and Patricia, with a gay little ripple of amusement, watched the slender childish figure straighten to its utmost height and assume an air of grave affability as Judith responded to her ovation.,Finally it got too much for Bob and one day, taking his courage in both hands, he blurted forth, “Say, Whisk—Mr. Whitney, what’s gone wrong? Is it anything money won’t cure?” He held his breath awaiting the answer. It was a cheeky, nervy thing to do and if his boss did not take it the right way, he would be perfectly justified in sending him back to the horrible punishment of the draughting room. But he need not have worried. Mr. Whitney was too much of a big boy himself and had too much understanding not to realize that the question had been asked because anything that troubled him meant so much to the boy.,“Moses stan’s on his head so’s his brains’ll filter back into place,” teased Mrs. Wopp.,Some stories of this kind are these:,"Yes; but she did not know what she was doing!",Mother began to cry again, and there came a lump in Johnny Blossom’s throat. No, he would not cry. Big boys ought never to cry.,“I’m fairly out of my wits with joy,” replied Grandmother..