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“Well, the lack of Buzz shall not damage your show; I’ll go,” Mrs. Lancaster yielded. “Who is going to auction the quilt when it is finished?” inquired Nell Gordon, appealing to her hostess as President of the Ladies’ Aid. “There Nancy,” she whispered, “is a sunbeam for breakfast dipped in milk.”.
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Betty had a conviction, though an unspoken one, that Moses was the primary cause of Job’s infirmity. The slowest of a large family of striped fluffy turkeys to emerge from the shell, he had been assisted in his efforts by the impatient Moses. Betty felt sure that the clumsy fingers of the boy had ruined the little turkey’s eye. The accusation, however, was too dreadful to be put into words. “Your nose is out of joint, Edith! I’ve got a new sister.” But his eyes belied his blunt words. “I wouldn’t jist say he cant git up, Mrs. Wopp, fer Mrs. Bower sewed the tear up fer him; but the pants bein’ still on him and Joe bein’ shy-like she felt too narvous to make a good job of it an’ I reckon Joe is afeard those few stitches Mrs. Bower put in may not be very secoor.” “I did hunt the aigs,” lied the unhappy Moses who was afraid he was going to miss something..
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