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In answer to his wife’s reproof, Mr. Wopp almost roared, “Where’s the hammer? Gone hide an’ hair it is, like everythink else.” She stood at the end of the creaking wharf, and one little bare arm was lifted high. She held a small fruit jar filled with water and beet juice. It was awkward, but Billy had insisted on the fruit jar,—“So’s it will be sure to break; it’s the only kind of a bottle that always will break.” “Why do you think that’s so dreadful?”.
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Yes, Billy had fainted for the first time in his[239] life. The two men, heedless of the Italian, took the boy up gently. One sat in the bed of the wagon and held Billy as easily as possible, while the other lifted May Nell to the seat, mounted beside her, and drove rapidly back to town. “O, Dadsie,” was the reply, “this is recital afternoon, you know.” “We’ll have to go and tell Ma,” said Maria. “Wharfmaster, ahoy!” Billy hailed, as they came near the water’s edge. “Is all ship-shape?”.
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