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“He’s jist the plainest gorl-darndest dorg in the worl’, but me an’ Betty thinks heaps of him, an’ Job’s lorst one eye but he’s a dandy live feather duster orl right.” Gestures and grins illuminated this earnest speech. Yet they had already stopped, turned, and driven quickly to the house, hurried by the frenzy in the boy’s tones. “Come, Jethro, Betty’ll carry her li’l white puppykins, pore li’l footsy’s so sore.”.
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kez_ h (Kez_h)
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“Come, Jethro, Betty’ll carry her li’l white puppykins, pore li’l footsy’s so sore.”I tried logging in using my phone number and I
was supposed to get a verification code text,but didn't
get it. I clicked resend a couple time, tried the "call
me instead" option twice but didn't get a call
either. the trouble shooting had no info on if the call
me instead fails.There was
The door opened on a smiling little face, though she tried to keep in the shadow. Still when Billy kissed his mother good-night, caught his sister in his arms and raced up and down with her, singing extravagantly a snatch from some opera, May Nell hid her face and cried again.
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Conrad
“Oh that is a little girl visiting us. My wife’s cousin is spending a week in Calgary and has brought an animated bunch of Alberta sage-brush with her.” Clarence had crossed the Pons Asinorum; a series of intoxicated circles, with sharp-cornered triangles piercing their fat sides, bore eloquent testimony to his faltering steps. The last act exhausted the possibilities of the theatre in light effects and sylvan scenery; and the curtain rose on a gorgeous scene. But oh, horror! In the middle of the stage the scene-shifters had left the ugly truck that moved Storm King’s reservoir of ice and snow. When used in previous acts, bed and wheels had been hidden by moss, the tank had been covered by his mantle, and the entire mechanism, moving as he moved, had seemed a part of himself. Now its secret was disclosed and it was ridiculous. Edith worked very hard. She called her operetta “The Triumph of Flora.” The words were her own, written hurriedly and set to familiar though classic airs. Yet many of the daintiest, most tripping melodies she wrote herself. The sorrows of humanity had winged her brain and dipped her pen in harmonies, that she might assuage them..
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