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“Whose Jethro?” “Now, Moses, look sharp. Quit yer foolin’ an’ git busy,” called Mrs. Wopp, to the son and heir, whose toilet was not even begun. She herself was busy braiding Betty’s fair hair. “Be sure to warsh yer neck an’ ears. Larst party we was to, Mis’ Williams says to me, she says, ‘Is that your Moses settin’ on that bench? La me! he seems darker complected than I ever seed him before. I thort he were some Arfrican,’ she says. I hev always been a godly woman, Moses, ef I do go to a dance now an’ agin. Anyhow, the good book says there is a time to dance, but it aint got no patience with dirt. Git yerself cleaned up, then go an’ hook up the team.” “This here thing looks like a mule with his ribs druv in an’ stan’in’ on his haunches. What d’ye call it?”.
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“Mrs. Newman, may I come again,” he turned confidentially to his hostess, “I am head over ears in love with your charming cousin.” Several others were summoned and returned with remarkable reports. At last two high-pitched little voices called in concert down the[160] stair: “The Royal Seeress will rend the veil of futurity for William Bennett.” “No; I can’t recall what I said.” The chinking began in earnest. Moses stood, turning till each freckle on his ruddy face shone with honest sweat..
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