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In a cage of wire netting bearing the legend, “The Roc—The Egg,” the uncomfortable gander swayed and craned his neck; and all but his voice was satisfactory. In the bottom of the cage a whitewashed stone the size of a small pumpkin did duty as the egg.,

“No, no, mother! This is business for only Bouncer and me.” He caught up the cut handkerchief and called the dog before his mother could hinder. “Find her, Bouncer! Find May Nell! Sic ’em!” he shouted, and set off heedless of his mother’s continued protestations, after the bounding dog.,

The cheerful clatter of knives and forks against Mrs. Wopp’s best blue willow plates was a gentle accompaniment to the ripple of laughing apology that Nell offered to the victim. Any constraint that might have been felt hitherto among the circle, decreased perceptibly as the rancher wiped the sweet syrupy drops from his face.,

“I always knew that house had something to do with me,” Billy declared to Mr. Smith. “The kids call it a wicked house, but it’s only the people living in it that’s wicked. It’s a splendid old place; and when I’m a man and have money enough, I’m going to buy it and fix it up fine, and give it a fair chance.”

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“Never min’, Pete, an’ thank you anyways, but sence the lesson’s a hull lot about the sea, I’ll jist write with blue chork.”,

In a few days the sight of his wife wrapped in a shawl the color of an unripe cucumber had a rejuvenating influence upon Ebenezer Wopp. He did not say much, being a man of few words, but his sentiments were inscribed in cramped illegible writing on a slip of paper to be handed down to posterity.,

It was as if some tremendous force had taken possession of his tired, stricken body, and carried it on with no volition of his own. Afterward he remembered, understood; knew it was his own will that rose and ruled every bodily faculty; knew, and was glad, for that day he stepped into a realm of power he should never lose as long as he lived.,

By the time the deep apple-pie was brought in, raised in the centre by a cup, he had become facetious, and turning a mirthful countenance to Nell, he whispered audibly, “Isn’t it just like Fuji Yama?” Before Nell could answer, Betty broke in.