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"I want'a know how you got them ink blots on your good clothes. Have you been a'wearin' 'em to school?" asked Mrs. Wilson. "When this settlement growed big enough fer a school, young Frank, who had a school teacher's di-ploma, offered to teach it. His farm was pretty well cleared by this time, so he got a man named Henry Burke to work it fer him an' Burke's wife to keep house. That was five years ago, an' Frank has taught the Valley School ever since, till now." "Listen to me!" Anson cried. "He made all the trouble, I tell you. All I did was tell him not to throw clubs at Ringdo—".

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Mrs. Keeler looked at her sagely. "Erie would never marry any man like Hinter," she asserted. When they reached the meadow-path, with the outbuildings between them and the watchful eyes of his mother, Maurice removed the shawl from about his throat. "I won't be needin' it any more, now," he said in answer to his companion's frown of protest. "It makes me too warm, an' the doctor he said whatever I did I mustn't sweat." Mrs. Wilson allowed the explanation to stand. She ran to the side of what may be called the litter, and looked down upon the face that rested upon a bolster. She clasped her hands. She compressed her lips. No exclamation escaped her, but one saw in her beautiful face the expression of that deep pity which is ever the attendant of love where sorrow is or suffering. "I saw him.".