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"Oh, Taro," Take called to him, "you aren't really and truly boiled, are you?" "Almost," sniffed Taro; "I'm as red as a red dragon. I think my skin will come off." "I know you are dreadfully hurt, poor Taro," Take said, "because a son of the Samurai never complains, no matter how hard his lot." The water was cooler now. Taro's head disappeared below the edge of the tub.
The boys ate them all. The army stayed at Taro's house and played with his soldiers and drilled on his porch until lunch-time, when they all went to their own homes. After luncheon Taro played with his tops. He had two beautiful ones. One was a singing top. He was spinning the singing top when all of a sudden there was a great noise in the street. He ran to see what was the matter.
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