Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
“Stop that there ‘Dead March of Saul,’ an’ go put on yer overalls,” ordered Mrs. Wopp, “what’s the idear of the gardenin’ tool, go git the littlest shovel to put inter the chimbly, an’ don’t let the grass grow under yer feet, neither.” The man faced her abruptly. “The devil he knows!” “She’d like fust-rate to come, but Glory be! She’d want ter fetch her pet turkey and Jethro.”.
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
🎁 Enjoy 100 Free Spins on popular slots for extra thrills and chances to win big.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
🎁 Exclusive Bonuses and Offers Await at Bhutan Lucky Lottery Results Chart!
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
“Yeh, Mar says I’m a reglar jographer I like it so much.” As Moses clattered down stairs, Mrs. Wopp continued, “There is shore a thunderstorm comin’ up to-night. ’Pears to me I heerd like a roll of drums.” As the evening wore on Mrs. Wopp, Mrs. Stephens and a few other ladies adjourned to a box stall where the refreshments were stored. Pleased with the prospect of dispensing lavish hospitality from the combined larders of the neighborhood, Mrs. Wopp’s face radiated cheerfulness. Al Newman took him by the arm, “We’ll have to leave for the show in eight minutes old boy, just a little funeral of your own now.”.
298 people found this
review helpful