“Please, Mith Wopp, the latht windthorm upthet our hen-houth.”,
Mrs. Bennett caught the despair in his words, and knew this could be no ordinary trouble to be petted away with a few caresses. Some crisis had come that must be wisely met. She entered, knelt by the bed, and put her arms around him. The spring starlight dimly outlined his head on the pillow but gave no hint of its bruises. “Billy, dear, nothing you can ever do will be bad enough to keep your mother away from you. What is it, my son?”,
“Hurry up, Buzz!” Billy called as he raced by from the shop, where he had been for the oil can to fill the boat’s reservoir..
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