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The man gave him an affectionate slap. “Go, then. You’re a right game kid, sure.” “Never mind yer notes, Ebenezer, jist you sarve the pork.” A mile or two down the creek the searching party sought diligently for the little lost boy. Moses was in the lead. He had announced his adamant resolve to find St. Elmo, or perform the irrevocable feat of “bustin’.” He cherished an idea of his own as to the child’s whereabouts. A few weeks previously, on an all-day excursion, Moses had played pirates with St. Elmo and they had utilized a most delectable earthy cave for their game..
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Join the green movement with our range of electric rickshaws designed for a sustainable future. Find the perfect balance of affordability and eco-consciousness at E-Rickshaw Hub. 🌱🔌I tried logging in using my phone number and I
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Conrad
CHAPTER V THE FAIR ELLEN Edith came in dressed for church. Betty Wopp was gambolling along the road with other little school-girls and heard the jeers addressed to the wretched boy. The penetrating sense of Moses’ need of her brought her to a halt. Indignation made her tight little braids of hair assume an aspect as terrific as Medusa’s snaky coils. She ran lightly up to Moses and walked beside him. “St. Elmo’s lost, Ma,” wailed Maria. “We can’t find him and he’s wandered down the creek.”.
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