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“How in the name of orl the aporstles did that hen git in there?” questioned Mrs. Wopp. “Mother,” he resumed, “I know I must freeze to some sort of business, and that mighty soon, too. But a preacher—why, he can’t be like anybody. He never has any fun.” The sun rose over the hills and his presence could be ignored no longer. As the Wopp family were driving silently home in the chilly morning, Moses, growing reminiscent, remarked with a yawn:.
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Conrad
S Billy Bennett wheeled around the corner he saw his mother in the doorway. Also he saw Jean Hammond across the street speaking with Bess Carter,—the Queen of Sheba, the children called her, she was so large and dark and handsome, and had such a royal way, like a sure ’nough queen, one said. Though why children who had never been out of Vine County should know so much about queens no one thought to ask. “That big sand pile the kids made last week for a fort can be the Sierras, and we’ll tunnel, and have a loop, and—” “I couldn’t understand it then. Now I do. My own sister is that bravest of lovers.” His words rang with pride as well as love. “Why have you been away out in the country for milk?”.
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