“Now, Mosey, Mar’d be as mad as a wet hen ef she heard you. I want two bits to give to the heathens in Arfrica an’ Mar don’t pay me fer doin’ chores like she pays you. Wisht I was a boy.”,
Why, it was going to be fine to work! Why had she not known it before?,
“Never mind Mosey, yer heart don’t need fixin’ anyhow,” comforted Betty.,
A chill as from an ice field swept over Billy. His heart seemed to fall down, down, as far as his shoes. He noticed that things looked darker, and his head felt light and queer. Another fear assailed him; would he, too, collapse, leave the little girls alone with the terror of two senseless boys?
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It was as if some tremendous force had taken possession of his tired, stricken body, and carried it on with no volition of his own. Afterward he remembered, understood; knew it was his own will that rose and ruled every bodily faculty; knew, and was glad, for that day he stepped into a realm of power he should never lose as long as he lived.,
Billy looked up at the Italian, saw him take a pistol from his pocket, discharge it in the air, replace it, and go calmly on with his work. What could that be for? A warning? Yes; for he realized suddenly that every sound in the house had ceased. The wagon passed from sight. He could hear the voices of the men as they drove by, see the driver pointing to the house with his whip; and one of the women on the rear seat looked back as long as the house could be seen. Then the soft mysterious sounds began again.,
The theatre was entirely darkened long enough to arrange the grand piano. The pianist approached the instrument to the plaudits of the crowded house. The insult to his audience in the afternoon had succeeded in spreading his fame and a packed house greeted his evening performance. He turned and gazed intently toward the audience. He caught Nell’s glance, who sat near the front as he had wished, and he smiled an acknowledgment of her presence.,
Choosing a piece of bright yellow chalk she began to inscribe the golden text on the blackboard. She pressed too hard and the chalk cracked and fell to the floor. Pete Stolway vaulted out of his chair to capture the yellow pencil, but he had the misfortune to step on both the pieces of crayon, crushing them to sand, a heap of yellow grit.
“Three you should say. Don’t you live in the dreamland of music? Eat your own breakfast, or you’ll be late for the train.”
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Mrs. Mifsud, however, had seemingly heard not a word of the story. In her distress she forgot that Mrs. Wopp was decidedly plebeian in her conversation and otherwise hopelessly unfashionable; all these discrepancies vanished from her mind, and leaning over on the ample bosom, she wept copiously. Mrs. Wopp patted her in a motherly way. “One touch o’ nater makes the hull world a-kin,” she whispered, “Hearten up, Mis’ Mifsud, Moses ’ll find yer little lamb. That boy seems slow, but all’s not gold that’s a-glitterin’. He’s shorely got a nose fer findin’ things. Our black carf got lost on the prairie one day an’ he found it arter everybody else hed giv’ up huntin’.”
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It’s a Quan-Yuan
“What’s the use of goin’ to a dance and settin’ sleepin’ like one of them spinxes, Ebenezer?” she expostulated as she roused him from his slumbers. The good lady herself had danced almost incessantly until her face had taken on the hue of a ripe pippin.
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The amused laugh of Nell Gordon, who sat beside Mrs. Wopp, floated past the youthful pair in front and perhaps helped to embue Moses with the reckless spirit of Jehu. The boy secretly admired his teacher, though he had an idea he would soundly pummel any boy with sufficient temerity to accuse him of it.
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Halin-Chen Response,
>“But I asked for her, mamma.” Billy’s voice lost its exuberance. His mother never had looked so tired, he thought for the second time that day.
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