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“Cleanin’ up’s next, Mose. Take my device an’ shoo away them hens an’ chickings. Mar’ll be home soon.” “Who is going to auction the quilt when it is finished?” inquired Nell Gordon, appealing to her hostess as President of the Ladies’ Aid. As Moses clattered down stairs, Mrs. Wopp continued, “There is shore a thunderstorm comin’ up to-night. ’Pears to me I heerd like a roll of drums.”.

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“Oh go on Betty, a daddy-long-legs’d die of starvin’ on what you eat.” “What has happened to you, Billy?” his mother questioned sharply as she turned at his voice and saw his damaged head. “You’re hurt, Billy!” Billy went to the door and looked after them. No one was in sight. Harold, the twins, and May Nell, too, were gone. What could it mean? He looked back at the clock. Nearly ten. Usually the Gang gathered earlier than this, hung around and hurried him with his work, many putting in lusty strokes, that Billy, the favorite, might the sooner be released. But now even Jean, his stanch second in all the fun going, was late. He had expected to be late himself; he always was. But he, who planned most of the sport in spite of doing more work than any of them, had this day expected his schemes to be well launched before he could join in them. “And I thought all the crew were washed overboard like chips,” he went on; “and I was left alone. And she shipped water in mountains. And I was cold as the North Pole. And at last she foundered, and I went down with her. And when I couldn’t choke any more I woke up.”.