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“Yes. You see, she rents some of the rooms, and she says they must look extra nice on Sunday so the men won’t mosey off to the saloons.” “But it’s a secret,” she whispered in smothered distress. “Please to go!” “She may come with me, mother,” Edith said, pausing in the lesson with finger uplifted on the beat; “Billy mustn’t go into that bleak tank house.”.

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“I did hunt the aigs,” lied the unhappy Moses who was afraid he was going to miss something. “Our house isn’t big enough.” Edith had quickly put her plan in execution, aided by the willing newspapers; but so far nothing had come of it, and mother and daughter feared their charge had lost more than aunt and cousin. South America, a very definite spot in the child’s mind, was still too vague a postoffice address for even Uncle Sam’s marvellous mail-carrying; and so, while encouraging May Nell, the two women tacitly adopted her into their hearts and discussed her future as if she were their own. “Are—are you hurt bad, Jimmy?” came in a quaking voice..