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“What’s the matter, Kiddie? Gee! Those big girls ought not to leave you alone with that fire; you’ll be cooked before the grub!” he grumbled while he mended the fire and propped the kettle. “Yum, yum! Things a-doin’ here. Makes a feller’s stomach feel like just before Thanksgiving dinner.” As that energetic lady bustled about the kitchen the same evening setting the bread, her voice rose in a series of trills and other embellishments as she sang “Where is my wanderin’ boy to-night?” “Yeh, Mar says I’m a reglar jographer I like it so much.”.

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But even as he looked he saw two people coming; his mother and Jean, crossing the foot-bridge that led to the pasture side of the river. The throbbing in his head, the stifled lungs, interest in the capture of the prisoners,—all faded before this terrible dread. A few minutes later the entire Egyptian fortune-telling outfit came down stairs at Billy’s heels. The hubbub was a riot of fun, and no one noticed that Billy said nothing about the revelations of destiny made to him; though later Jean recalled that in the zig-zag journey around the park that was Billy’s evening exercise, he spoke very little to the chatterers with him, even forgot to “jolly.” “Can he mean ‘prodigy,’ do you think, May Nell?” Edith’s eyes were mischievous. But May Nell was not to be comforted, till that evening when she composed a wonderful ode to “The Wreck of the Fair Ellen.”.