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We were well disciplined little animals; we always went to bed without a murmur, but on this night we literally flew there. The Seraph ended his prayers with "and for this piwate tweasure make us twuly thankful. Amen." The next moment we had dived under the bed clothes and snuggled there in wild expectancy. From half past seven to twelve is a long stretch. The Seraph slept peacefully.
Suddenly The Seraph spoke in that cock-sure way of his. "There's a piwate at Peggs." Mrs. Handsomebody looked at him sharply. "What's that?" she demanded. At the same instant Angel and I kicked him under cover of the table. "What did you say?" repeated Mrs. Handsomebody sternly. "Funny ole gennelman at the Cwibbage Peggs," replied The Seraph with his mouth full. Mrs.
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