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“Well, why don’t you go along, Mrs. Lancaster? Don’t prize babies have attendants?”,“Now you’re Fair Ellen and I’m defending you at Goblin Cave!” He thrust her behind him, held her tight with one arm, while he flourished the carving knife and called on Clan Alpine’s foes to appear.,It was Saturday afternoon on a busy street in the city. Moses Wopp and Clarence Crump, at whose home the former was spending the week end, were on their way to the skating-rink. If they had wanted to skate there, the streets would have accommodated them with a sufficiently smooth surface, as an early frost had rimed the pavement.,Several ladies of the district were already busy “scttin’ up” the quilt when Mrs. Wopp and her satellites entered the Mifsud parlor.,“We’re seven,” came the echo.,“Murder! Murder!” he shouted with all his strength; and his boy’s voice reached far up and down the lonely distances.,“You must do it,” he spelled. His stiffened fingers must have carried authority, for she nodded; and he saw her get a chair and stand with it, ready to do his bidding.,“When I do my dishes, Mar, can I work in the garding, too?” inquired Betty.,May Nell looked at him a minute before speaking. “You like doing things, but you don’t like work. Isn’t work doing things?”,“What things?”,“Thought I’d eloped? I ought to when I’ve brought you an extra mouth to feed.” He was splashing and spluttering in the lavatory off the kitchen.,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..