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"Wish, my handsome gentleman, and may your wish come true." "Go ahead with the hocus-pocus," growled Paul. Mother Meg picked up one card after another and her cracked voice was evidently following a set formula. "If the queen of spades comes between the king of clubs and the queen of hearts " Paul listened with a strained intentness as the hag singsonged on and on.

She entered in one of the uncontrollable gales of laughter, the indoor heat immediately inducing the dizziness. "Whatta you think I yam? Tell it to the poodles and the great Danes!" Thirty minutes later, in a court-room as smeared of atmosphere as a dirty window, a bridge officer, reading from a slip of paper, singsonged to the sergeant-at-arms: "Stella Schump. Officer Charles Costello."

"Why, Mr. Barton," she said, "we couldn't get home now in all this storm and darkness and wash-out to save our lives. But even if it were moonlight," she singsonged, "and starlight and high-noon; even if there were chariots at the door, I'm not going home now till I've finished my scrap-book if it takes a week." "Eh?" jerked Barton. "What?" Laboriously he edged himself forward.

Only by his superior agility was Racey enabled to dodge all save a few drops of a full bucket of water. "Djever get left! Djever get left!" singsonged Racey from the corner of the building, and set the thumb of one hand to his nose and twiddled opprobrious fingers at his comrade. "You wanna be a li'l bit quicker when you go to souse me, Swing. Yo're too slow, a lot too slow. Yep.

"State Police, Corporal Kavaalen," a voice singsonged out of the receiver. "My name is Rand," he identified himself. "I am calling from Arnold Rivers's antique-arms shop on Route 19, about a mile and a half east of Rosemont. I am reporting a homicide." "Yeah, go ahead Hey! Did you say homicide?" the other voice asked sharply. "Who?" "Rivers himself.

"No, I don't mind if you smoke," singsonged the girl. With a palpable sigh of relief Barton lighted a cigarette. "You're nice," he said. "I like you!" Conscientiously then he resumed his reading. "No Pleurodira have yet been found," he began. "Yes isn't that too bad?" sighed little Eve Edgarton. "It doesn't matter personally to me," admitted Barton. Hastily he moved on to the next sentence.

Barton," singsonged the girl monotonously. "But the extra horse?" cried Barton. With a sudden little chuckle of relief he pointed to the chunky gray. There was a side-saddle on the chunky gray. "Who's going with us?" Almost insolently little Eve Edgarton narrowed her sleepy eyes. "I always taken an extra horse with me, Mr.

"Mebbe she air been a fightin' with her beau," piped the dwarf, from the ceiling. The girl's mind traveled back through the events of the evening. "Nope, I didn't fight with 'im, Andy," she smiled through her tears. Daddy Skinner's beard rubbed lovingly over the dishevelled curly head. "There! There! My little 'un!" he singsonged. "I'll rock my babe a bit.