“Them critters has swore more than I ever heerd sence the ketchup bottle fomented an’ bust an’ splashed orl over Par’s shirt an’ trickled down his pants.”,
All but May Nell; when Edith and Mrs. Bennett rubbed and warmed her she declared she didn’t need it, and was so absorbed in lamenting the loss of the Fair Ellen, she could think of nothing else.,
“Thank you Mr. Newman, you’re a prince.”,
“You can send some one after us, a man—not you, not either of you,” he called back over his shoulder, and was soon out of sight.
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“I can’t. Nailed.”,
“O Billy, the poor rabbit will surely be caught; and you know the stag hid in ‘Trosach’s wildest nook.’”,
Jimmy tried not to look pleased, but failed. Something about May Nell attracted him, whether it was her beauty, her fearlessness, or her air of distinction he did not know. It was really her recognition of something fine in him that his cold and irascible father had almost whipped out of him.,
This conversation took place in Billy’s shop, a room adjoining the wood-house and given over to his use. Nothing short of the world in the second verse of Genesis was equal to the chaos of that place. Every conceivable scrap and job lot of “truck” was there in a jumbled heap; and Billy was never happier than when mussing it over in search of “material”; in greasy overalls and crownless hat, whistling merrily, bringing forth to substance and form the inventions of his busy brain.
Several ladies of the district were already busy “scttin’ up” the quilt when Mrs. Wopp and her satellites entered the Mifsud parlor.
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Jean and the twins, Charley, George and some others, rattled down the stairs; while Clarence and Harry stood rigid, with wooden scymitars drawn, one on each side of the door.
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2q5ie-Wong,
It’s a Quan-Yuan
As the stove door opened for the intrepid Moses, out flew Tillie the white bantam hen now as black as a crow with soot. She fluttered into the face of Moses who was kneeling before the stove.
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“Yes, Mosey, I jist want to go to my mornin’-glory garding to tell it good-night.” She rubbed her sleepy tear-stained eyes.
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Halin-Chen Response,
>“What! Bread jist outer the oving! There aint a sinner this minute but what begun his vile career on a slice of fresh bread. Indisgestion shore fills jails an’ ’sylums more nor drink. You carn’t hev one slice till to-morrcr.”
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