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The last act exhausted the possibilities of the theatre in light effects and sylvan scenery; and the curtain rose on a gorgeous scene. But oh, horror! In the middle of the stage the scene-shifters had left the ugly truck that moved Storm King’s reservoir of ice and snow. When used in previous acts, bed and wheels had been hidden by moss, the tank had been covered by his mantle, and the entire mechanism, moving as he moved, had seemed a part of himself. Now its secret was disclosed and it was ridiculous. They were at the dripping roadside tank and back in a trice. Gently where a moment before he had been ferocious with anger, Billy wiped his play-mate’s face, or rather, changed the mud from one spot to another, got him to his feet again, and finally into the buggy with the little girls by his side. Billy went on with his rubbing, and his next words were comically resigned. “Besides, I suppose I’ll have to get married some day; of course she’ll be a new woman; might as well learn housework now.”.

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He tried to hold it from falling, but could not. It seemed as if his arms would be pulled out of their sockets. It would fall short—he must hold on to it, not let it strike below, for the noise would betray them too soon; and—the men in the wagon were passing! “Cleanin’ up’s next, Mose. Take my device an’ shoo away them hens an’ chickings. Mar’ll be home soon.” The pictures that followed were of fairies and sprites irresistible to childish minds. “But this is the time my mama needs me,” May Nell sobbed; “Sunday night in the two-light time, before the stars come out, really, and when the shadow people creep from the corners and blink at you.”.