On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. Think if your own mother was alive!” He paused, deeply moved. “Look here, daddy,” she said, in a tone of great reasonableness, “I MUST go to that dance, you know. . Sheppard's house, loud yells and vociferations reached his ears; and, looking downwards, he perceived a great stir amid the mob. “You are in trouble,” he said. “But—” The long inconsecutive conversation by that time was getting on her nerves.
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