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Fantasy website Design download +88k “Ebenezer Wopp, I’ve tarlked to you till I’m black in the face, but it’s jist wastin’ valyble breath. Yer brains is allers wool-gatherin’. The hammer’s in yer hip-pocket.”,“Miss Gordon here, made me a harnsome lace yoke fer an underwaist, an’ give it to me fer my birthday,” volunteered Mrs. Wopp.,“They’d look purtier, Glory, ef you’d put more colors in,” commented Mrs. Wopp.,Edith in white, half smothered in blush roses, with the fairies and their Queen, stood ready in the wings. Billy was also waiting his cue. This time he was to be pulled swiftly in on invisible wheels. Over his satin tunic was a network of glittering mock gems that must have included every yellow bead and spangle in Vine County. From his shoulders floated a cloud of yellow, diamond-dusted tulle; and the crown of gems surrounded a cluster of small lights, a device Billy himself had figured out with the aid of the electric light man.,“Ebenezer Wopp, no wonder you talk sich ridicilsome nonsense in yer sleep, eatin’ cheese at night. It’s ’nough to make you dream of boer-constructors.”，Late that night when Billy’s mother followed him to the Fo’castle, he asked, “Are you pleased with it, little mother?”，Behind the two women trotted a chubby baby. “I see Billy boat,” he cried, shrilly, stumbled, fell, scrambled up again, and repeated his refrain.，“What is Fuji Mamas?”Finally, Ebenezer Wopp’s musings, which had been gathering force as he worked, burst into speech. For a quiet man he became almost oratorical. Then he fell to soliloquizing audibly.

“No worse ’n you, I reckon,” was the rueful response. Billy’s appearance justified Jimmy’s speech; for freckles were standing out large and ghastly from one or two very white spots on the younger boy’s battered face. “Can you get home alone?”,Gee! It was a scaly trick for a little girl, he thought; and felt sick. Would the plank bend too much? Slip? She was such a little thing—if only she could be a truly fairy for a minute!,“I like Sunday School best ’cause I do things there.”,“Mudgie, Mudgie,” he shrieked.,“All right, Doc,” the other replied a bit gruffly; “suppose we catch ’em before we fight about the divvy.”,“Well, time is near up younguns; has any one a question to arsk?”,To the melody of the shining bells, Betty dropped off to sleep.,With a patient hand removin’,In the house, meanwhile, affairs were proceeding quite as happily as those out of doors. The hostess fluctuated between the parlor and kitchen. She was preparing a repast not only for the workers present, but also for the men-folk who would presently arrive to take them to their respective homes. Excused from quilting, she nevertheless managed to spend considerable time with her guests. Mrs. Mifsud was a lady who aspired to literary attainments. She had read “Beulah,” “Vashti,” “Lucile,” “St. Elmo” and many other books of like calibre. She felt that her talents were practically wasted, living in what she termed a desert, yet she strove, when occasion offered, by elegance of deportment and conversation to enhance her gifts. She often spoke tenderly of the late Mr. Mifsud who, in spite of the fact that his face had been adorned with bristling side-whiskers of an undeniable red, had shown in other ways some signs of intelligence and feeling. He had been carried off by the shingles. According to Mrs. Mifsud’s account, her deeply-lamented spouse had considered the tall attenuated form of his wife “willowy,” her long thin black hair “a crown of glory,” her worn narrow countenance with its sharp nose and coal-black eyes, “seraphic.”,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.,“Yes; but some one who could take care of himself. And you didn’t expect to open dressmaking parlors.”,“Mosey!”.