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“No, Mosey, I must hurry and get some flowers fer school to-day.” “Maria, where is St. Elmo?” asked Mrs. Mifsud, as with flushed face she basted some fowls in the oven. “I don’t give two whoops ef he does,” Betty was bubbling with suppressed mirth..

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George nudged Jimmy. “Hit again, Sour. Come on.” The two boys went out, mysteriously embarrassed. “And Bouncer’s here,” May Nell added, hugging the dog affectionately. Vina was no exception. Ball games, church collections, children’s mite societies, girls sewing, boys running errands, each and all helped with the relief work. To his mother and sister Billy seemed changed. He stuck closer to his books. His teacher told them the boy stood at the head of his class. “Jimmy Dorr may be a rival if he feels like work, which isn’t probable. Jean’s accident last year put her behind, otherwise the boys would have to work much harder if either excelled her.” Yet even these welcome words did not account for some things the mother quietly observed; Billy’s growing promptness, better attention, and memory for matters outside of play. He was more silent, too; and there was less hammering and whistling in the shop..