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The strains of “Red Wing” having died away, Mrs. Wopp busied herself setting up the crokinole board. “Me and Par won’t play, jist the young folks,” she announced.,
May Nell looked at him a minute before speaking. “You like doing things, but you don’t like work. Isn’t work doing things?”,
Out of the tail of her eye Betty noted this little touch of sentiment and was much impressed.,
The child was “boiling inside,” yet she believed Bouncer’s life depended on her obedience. And anyway, Billy would come in a minute. Oh, why wasn’t he there now!
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,
In the front seat of the Wallace school sat Mannel Rodd. Nell Gordon declared that he was the roundest object she had ever seen in human form. Though he had arrived at the mature age of five, he still retained that cherubic appearance which one sees in the paintings of old masters. His eyes were as round as the rather sparsely-located buttons on his shirt. His nose was a small round knob. When he opened his little round mouth to lubricate a squeaky slate pencil or perhaps to enunciate some such interesting statement as this, “The cat is on the mat,” he disclosed a row of pearly little teeth. Indeed his whole face would have been as round as the moon, were it not that his chin took an unexpected little saucer-like curve in the very middle of it.,
“Howard Eliot may larf, but I think these writin’s is real clever.” Mrs. Wopp grew thoughtful, “Moses’ Aunt Lucindy’s cousin, by marriage, had talents fer literatoor. But the pore girl married an undertaker an’ she writ no more.”,
Billy heard the hatted one say “So long!” saw him start down a path that followed close beside the stream, perfectly hidden from any one who might be walking the crests above. The other man brought a pail and started up the hill.
Norah Bliggins, whose nose was already moist from the effects of domestic discord, thrust a chubby finger into her mouth and began to pucker up her eyes preparatory to emitting a howl of dismay at being singled out for the first question. Her brother Pat, sensing the situation, put up his hand eagerly and answered for her.
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Developer Response,
For five hundred dollars a week he had pranced to the admiring vaudeville audience; but once let the artist lay bare his soul in real music and whispering reaches his ear. But there was no use complaining, no one could understand his disgust.
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14i3w-Wong,
It’s a Quan-Yuan
“I got an orful cold, goin’ in an’ out so orften,” he complained.
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Bingbing-Li
The gentle words, the tender touch, the comfort and hope in her words, unlocked his lips and he told what he had thought to keep forever untold.
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Halin-Chen Response,
>Going down the stairs his loud unmelodious singing reached the ears of those in the bedroom. When he arrived at the foot, Betty, whose ears were attuned to all acts of outlawry, had reason to believe that Moses performed three successive somersaults.
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