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Is CompAsia legit Earn money by referring friends At last the long-looked-for day arrived and by two o’clock eight children from the nearest ranches had ridden or had been brought by grownups to the Wopp farm, all arrayed in their best bibs and tuckers.,It quickly occurred to him to run around and climb up there by the coop. Perhaps he could see into the windows—perhaps see— He didn’t wait to finish his thought, but scrambled frantically up the steep and came around to the top of the wall. The window opposite and level with him was bare but not as dirty as the others; and against it he saw a bed-post. Anyway that room was used by some one besides ghosts, he thought; and wondered what to do next. Just then Bouncer sprang up and gave a single short bark, his bark of greeting.,“Yes, you shall be our dear little girl.” Mrs. Bennett took the forlorn child in her motherly arms and kissed her. “You’re tired and hungry, too, aren’t you?”,“S’Gordon won’t care,” grunted Moses. “She never had to wear Par’s old pants, an’ she won’t un’erstan’ how a feller feels.”,As the stove door opened for the intrepid Moses, out flew Tillie the white bantam hen now as black as a crow with soot. She fluttered into the face of Moses who was kneeling before the stove.，“Oh that is a little girl visiting us. My wife’s cousin is spending a week in Calgary and has brought an animated bunch of Alberta sage-brush with her.”，“She’ll be afraid to sleep in the downstairs bedroom,” Mrs. Bennett reflected, planning rapidly for the unexpected child whom she still had no thought of turning from her door.，“Salute your partner, swing—your partner.” Mrs. Wopp who had expected “Swing on the corner,” had seized the unfortunate Mr. Wopp and in spite of his struggles was spinning him violently around, while their respective partners stood and looked helplessly on.“It’s that Jake. He’s sich an ornery animule,” explained the boy, thus shamelessly vilifying a patient and much enduring character.

“She’ll be orful mad,” prophecied Moses.,Moses and Betty were left to mind house, the admonishings of Mrs. Wopp being seasoned with picturesque if carelessly applied texts. The envious might hurl hisses, but Moses and Betty were invulnerable to all such assaults upon their anticipations of the day’s freedom with its already planned joys.,In the very centre of the room stood a small table swathed in a hand-painted felt drape. On this reposed the huge family Bible in which was chronicled the marriages, births and deaths of the Wopp family during the last three generations.,Arrived at home almost bursting with information, the child recounted to his astonished mother a long complicated story of how “theh was a lot of bad men and they weh et by a big fish, the big fish met a man on the woad called Jonah and asked him what he was doing on the woad and Jonah pwayed weel hahd and wode on the fish and a big wind blowed him off, just like Lila William’s hen-house.”,“I mix up words that way sometimes, too,” the child excused.,“Mary Ellen Smith; but my mama calls me May Nell; and she says—she says ‘kid’ is vulgar.” The last words were very shy.,For five hundred dollars a week he had pranced to the admiring vaudeville audience; but once let the artist lay bare his soul in real music and whispering reaches his ear. But there was no use complaining, no one could understand his disgust.,A pretty little figger,,“I got an orful cold, goin’ in an’ out so orften,” he complained.,“Rocky?” he interrupted. “You bet not. It’ll be just bully, that’s what!”,Visitors! He saw them through the window. Every step was growing more painful,—he must get to his room. The space from the woodshed roof to the tower room, before so easily surmounted by a swinging jump, looked now as high and far as Mount Whitney. Back to the window he turned. The firelight was dancing on the walls. Sister Edith was talking gayly to neighbors who were standing near the door, and May Nell was snuggled beside his mother on the couch, the great yellow cat, or a part of him, sprawling on her small lap.,Thus adjured by his father the elocutionist began in a loud dramatic voice:.