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Anson started to whimper. "I do have bad dreams," he confessed miserably, "but pie an' tarts ain't to blame fer it.",CHAPTER IV.—WASH-DAY AT MRS. WOPP’S.,Once on the impromptu platform, Patricia's embarrassment dropped from her, and she smiled a ready acknowledgment to the shouts that demanded a dozen different songs at once.,"Indeed you did no such thing," retorted Etwald, coolly. "My story is quite different to that of Dido.","O Croaker," groaned Billy, "why won't you find the gold fer me?" Croaker returned his master's look of reproach with beady, insolent eyes. "Cawrara-cawrara-cawrara," he murmured, backing from the pile, which meant, "Why don't you carry one of these beautiful shiny things home for me? Isn't that what I brought you here to do?","When, Tom, when?" asked Ringold, eagerly.,"I repeat," she piped, turning to Elinor with a jerky bow, "I repeat my question. Why were you admitted to our class without having worked in any antique or life classes before?","It is your grand-daughter, Little Red Riding-Hood. I have brought a cake and a little jar of butter, which my mother has sent you.",He moves towards the door with "pride in his port, defiance in his eye," as Goldsmith would say.,“We’re seven,” came the echo.,And will track them right into their homes—lack-a-day!,“Let him play to-day, mother,” she pleaded, when the two stepped into the hall; “he can be a boy only once.”.