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CHAPTER XIX.—BETTY’S ILLNESS. “I mix up words that way sometimes, too,” the child excused. How the missionary box would jingle! How the heathen would sing for joy! While on the Wopp table carrot pudding could become a diurnal felicity!.
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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. George nudged Jimmy. “Hit again, Sour. Come on.” The two boys went out, mysteriously embarrassed. When the train snorted into the station the two were there, Billy with his loaf under his arm, his can dangling. Most of the arrivals were townsfolk home from visits to the stricken city; but a few, evidently strangers, descended and stood by themselves. “You have, you have, dear baby! I’ll be your mother, and you can call me ‘mamma’ as Billy does.”.
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