“’Cause I love you, ’n’ I hope the edges’ll be all pink like my mornin’-glories.”,
With a boy’s cunning and swiftness Billy made a running creep through the underbrush up the steep mountain side. From a peephole higher up he stopped, breathless, and watched them beat the chaparral round about where he had stood; saw them go down into the road, look each way, turn and scan the mountain; and at last slink off, one to the house, the other to the vineyard.,
“Wisht I hed a chance to holler into one of them brass dinner-horns, too,” he grumbled..
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