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“Alfred the Grate was a good king. He had a lot of trubel in his rane. The Danes had come to Ingland and peeple did not no how to read and rite. He bilt some skools and men called munks showed the peeple how to read and rite the Danes were very crool they killed a lot of men and Alfred the Grate had to run away and hide in a slew. One day a woman where he horded asked him to turn some pancakes and King Alfred the Grate forgot to turn the pancakes and they were burnt and the woman boxed his ears and would not bord him no more. Alfred the Grate beet the Danes.” Locked up! The child’s heart beat stiflingly; yet she did not cry out; she thought self-control would win her more favor than tears. In his anticipation of the Sunday afternoon treat in store for him, Moses dreamed all that night of little dark-skinned men running round after him with bowls of rice and jabbing him with chop-sticks..

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“What does that mean?” queried Moses. And Billy did not think of it as strange till Buzz’s grandmother called from behind the window curtain, “Delia, you surely won’t traipse through town with that crowd! How you will look!” “Moses Habakuk Ezra Wopp an’ Ebenezer Wopp! You’d orter be shamed of yerselves. You shorely must of fell with Lucifer when he come tumblin’ outer the sky. Them swear words make every single hair on my head stan’ on edge.” According to plan, Billy’s mother had called and detained him while the score of laughing youngsters gathered and stood silently around the table. When he was running across the lawn again, his face washed and hair combed, matters he thought might well have been omitted when time was so precious, he was struck by the strange stillness. What had happened to stop every tongue at once? He ran on faster, through the trellis gate, and halted, transfixed. A shout greeted him. Each one waved a small flag, and sang lustily—.