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And his cat met him, and then his mother met him. "Where were you, dear?" his mother asked. "I was helping the tree-men paint egg-spots. How big are moth-eggs, mother?" But his mother didn't know. And that's all. Once upon a time there was a little boy, and he was almost five years old, and his name was David.
A man who tries that game is a good deal like the fellow who puts on a fancy vest over a dirty shirt he's the only person in the world who can't see the egg-spots under his chin.
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