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“Well, Moses,” queried his genial host at the supper table, “did the skating go pretty good to-day?” “Had a fall, Billy?” Every one knew the boy. “You look orful, jist like you was growin’ a pair of speckled toothbrushes. What ’ll Mar say? You carn’t go to school like that.”.
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Conrad
“Don’t sit there wool-gatherin’ anyways, Mose, or the moths’ll nest in yer head. Ef you carn’t sing in toon, you kin bring up a cup of tea fer Miss Gordon an’ Mr. Eliot, an’ don’t fergit Betty an’ yer Mar.” And that night after school, when May Nell’s little wardrobe was all packed,—not without a slight baptism of Edith’s tears,—and waiting for the morning train, Mr. Smith came in and put a ceremonious looking document into Billy’s hand. Howard Eliot guided his charges through the mazes of the city to a restaurant. Moses with the perennial appetite of fourteen ate silently and steadily, not omitting one item on the menu. He gorged. “‘Mosey’? Does that mean ‘little Moses’?”.
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