Big Bass Christmas Bash demo

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“Elmo saw some gween and white faywies,” he fabricated, “and wanted Mudgie to see them too.”,“Jist as soon’s you finish yer dinner an’ yer noon chores, Moses, I want you to go weed them beets,” instructed Mrs. Wopp. “The weeds is chokin’ them out an’ I see the gophers has been eatin’ some o’ them, too.”,“Too much?” he interrupted; “is anything I have in this world too much to give for the life of my wife and child? Didn’t your son save them both? Save May Nell from—” He turned away and did not attempt to finish his sentence.,“This here flower aint a mornin’-glory, but the leaves is mighty like it, an’ the flowers is jist as purty.” Moses explained.,“Gosh! Wisht Betty was here right this minute. Mebbe I’m dyin’. Hope nobody starts twangin’ a harp. My nose is worser’n ever!”,Mrs. Mifsud, in the lead of the rescuing party, ran through the garden gate in time to see St. Elmo fall headlong, his feet having become entangled in the long rank grass near the fence.,With a supreme effort he straightened his arms just as the board reached the level of the sill, pushed it forward with all his might; and—it caught! Caught by an inch or less!,Billy organized a real estate syndicate, and sold lots to the Gang, “with or without liability to assessment, as the purchaser prefers.” A Board of Trade was organized to which all promised to defer, except Jimmy, who smiled in disdain. He leased the railroad and did a thriving carrying trade, timber for fencing and warehouses, dirt for filling, and so on; and was fast becoming “the millionaire of the crowd,” when the “Board” met and decided he should cut his tariff in half or leave the syndicate; and as Jimmy was heartily interested in the game, he accepted their decision and no longer smiled at the Board of Trade.,“What things?”,It must have been hours past midnight when Billy’s chattering voice startled his mother. She had heard no bell; the boy himself stood by her bedside; she could see him dimly against the window.,Edith worked very hard. She called her operetta “The Triumph of Flora.” The words were her own, written hurriedly and set to familiar though classic airs. Yet many of the daintiest, most tripping melodies she wrote herself. The sorrows of humanity had winged her brain and dipped her pen in harmonies, that she might assuage them.,Here Mrs. Wopp related for the hundredth time the account of the ketchup disaster..