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Viewing the upturned swill-pail, she suddenly became cynical.,
“The robin is jist the carinest bird,” she added.,
May Nell watched the flying figure turn out of sight around the mountain; and for a minute the forest grew absolutely still, and the child began to tremble. But a meadow lark, almost from under her feet it seemed, sent forth a rippling song; across the river her mate replied. A flock of white ducks came waddling and quacking from the opposite field, plunged into the water, and swam about noisily, tipping their little tails up and their big bills down as they reached for submerged morsels. Bouncer made a swift circuit of the Lodge, sniffing now and then questioningly; but came soon and sat down in front of May Nell; put his paw on her knee and gave her another short bark.,
CHAPTER V.—A DANCE IN THE CEDAR HILLS.
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“She’d like fust-rate to come, but Glory be! She’d want ter fetch her pet turkey and Jethro.”,
Mrs. Bennett hugged her closer and patted her cheek softly, but let the passion of tears spend itself a little before trying the comfort of words. Then she questioned of the child’s parents, her past life, and the events just preceding the catastrophe in San Francisco, that she herself might better understand how to shield and make happy the little waif that a terrible, heaving earth had cast into her home, her arms.,
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.,
“But the girls and small fry can’t come in on that. Besides, that little city kid’ll be lonesome if I leave her.”
“Billy, I don’t think you could possibly have been happier on your birthday than I was; yet I was so tired that night that I could not sleep. The work of that day was play to me.”
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Yet it was a very quiet little child that crept down to the others a few minutes later; when asked of her fortune she burst into tears.
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eopku-Wong,
It’s a Quan-Yuan
“We hev a homestead an’ pre-emption, Miss Gordon, but only work a hundred acres or thereabout. We run stock on the rest of it, aint that the how of it Lize?” Mr. Wopp looked to his help-meet for corroboration.
velyz-Xu,
Bingbing-Li
Zalhambra was a vaudeville artist. His was the star act on each bill. He was undeniably a genius; it needed but a few bars of fortissimo plus crescendo to realize that he was a virtuoso of the first rank. When he played a Rag the audience shouted with delight; but when he sprinkled torrential cadenzas through the dizzying syncopation, like some mighty giant tossing meteors into a handful of fire-crackers, something like an electric shock stirred his hearers.
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>Rain dropped her gray mantle behind a tree, and reappeared with her chalice of diamond-dust dew, to touch the fairy chorus to shimmering beauty. The gnomes, their queer masks and hunched shoulders showing grotesquely under their gray garb, joined the fairies’ dance. Wind came floating in as Summer Breeze. Storm was transformed to the Slave of the Sower; while Black Frost was perched high up at the rear, grinning from the top of the mountain.
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