《The Station game》Earn money by referring friends “Three you should say. Don’t you live in the dreamland of music? Eat your own breakfast, or you’ll be late for the train.”,Another gift Moses brought his little sister was a small shell purse containing a new silver coin. This largess was in a way expiatory. He had not yet regained his self-respect since his refusal to grant Betty’s request for a quarter, and it seemed as though the act of expiation must repeat itself indefinitely..
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Mr. Wopp, goaded to desperation, breathed audibly his opinion regarding pipe-fitting. Diogenes in one of his periodical excursions from his tub would have been glad to category that remark as an honest man’s attitude, at least toward certain jobs.,
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:,
In desperation he stood still, gazing at the windows above; reprimanding the dog sharply when he whined, though his fingers unconsciously patted away the sting of the rebuke.,
The child seeing the twinkle in the older eyes, laughed aloud; and, wrapped in a voluminous apron, began the first task that had ever left its stain on her pretty fingers.
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“I must of looked like that Lize or the picter couldn’t of been took.” Ruefully he rubbed his bald crown.,
Billy cuddled down in the low-growing manzanitas, whose screen was further thickened by a tangle of wild pea vines all a-bloom. Placing himself so that he could watch both the house and the man on the hill, he settled to await further disclosures.,
“What’s the matter with Billy To-morrow? He’s thirteen! Three and ten! Most a man! He’s all right!”,
“Every tub must stan’ on its own bottom,” commented Mrs. Wopp. But even as she spoke, an unmistakable expression of gratified pride spread over her large motherly countenance.
The inexorable portrait on the wall seemed to gaze down on the recalcitrant youth with disapproval.
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Developer Response,
Here Mrs. Wopp related for the hundredth time the account of the ketchup disaster.
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qwddw-Wong,
It’s a Quan-Yuan
Then one day, after several years, a stranger had come to town with a startling story. He said that he had been a sailor on the “Wanderer,” when she had made her last voyage. The ship had been blown in a gale upon the rocky coast of a small island in the south seas. He with several others of the crew and a few passengers had managed to get to land and had been hospitably treated by the natives. A small trading-vessel which regularly visited the island had taken them off in the course of the next few weeks, but one of their number, a passenger named Snoop, had refused to leave. He had asserted he might as well be there as anywhere else. Later reports brought from the island by the crew of the trading-vessel had been to the effect that Mr. Snoop was leading a tranquil and peaceful existence. He was espoused to several dusky maidens and was so much revered and respected as the only possessor of a white skin on the island, that he was never expected to stir hand or foot in any way suggesting work.
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Bingbing-Li
THINGS happened very fast the next few days. “Something doing every minute,” Billy put it. Billy had neither been ill nor injured,—only exhausted. The wound on his scalp had been worse in appearance than in fact; and a couple of long nights in sleep, and easy days at home mended him completely.
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Halin-Chen Response,
>“Who wants to drive my trained bear an’ monkey? Only a dime stranger, only a dime!”
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