Was there to be another murder? Ought he to call? If he did wouldn’t they turn on him—kill him? No matter. Some one might be on the road and hear. And he could run pretty fast. Anyway he must risk it.,
“I b’lieve I’ll go an’ git the warterin’ can,” announced Betty. “These pansies is orful dry, an’ even ef the sun is shinin’ on them, some warter round the roots wont hurt. You stay here, St. Elmo, an’ I’ll be back in a minute.”,
“Well, time is near up younguns; has any one a question to arsk?”,
“Did you forget their breakfast, Billy?” the child questioned earnestly.
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So close was the affiliation between Betty and Moses that exactly three-quarters of an hour after her departure with Miss Gordon for Calgary the impetuous youth was at the rancher’s home trying to inveigle him into a conspiracy to follow the holiday-makers to that city of dazzling attractions.,
“What else did they do ’sides dancing, Betty?” questioned St. Elmo.,
The effulgence of Mrs. Wopp’s smile was somewhat obscured by “I told you so’s,” but the aroma of the steaming teapot soon restored its radiance.,
“That’s the reason. She says a boy will spoil the part; won’t get the shivers like she will. She thinks a minstrel can’t—can’t minstrelize properly without the shivers.”
May Nell looked at him a minute before speaking. “You like doing things, but you don’t like work. Isn’t work doing things?”
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“No, my son.” The answer was more sincere than a few weeks before she could have believed possible. The coming of the child had taken from her life many hours of association with Billy, sweet as only mothers know; yet May Nell’s influence had softened and refined Billy, enlarged his vision.
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Betty said her prayers that night before her cyclamen. It seemed to her a “mornin’-glory that had been growed by an angel, its petals sparkled so, an’ it smelled so pure.” She breathed very softly her thanksgiving, with a vague feeling that it had wings and could find its way better than she knew.
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Molly enjoyed the attentions of Betty and contentedly chewed her cud. Whenever Betty leaned forward to caress the camel, Molly rolled out some square inches of tongue and licked the glowing cheek of her little mistress. An altogether adorable if somewhat familiar camel was the old black cow.
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Halin-Chen Response,
>“I’d love to, Billy,” Mrs. Lancaster whispered; “I’ve never liked being grown up.”
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