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"Joanna," said little Ellen in a loud whisper, "may I take off my hat?" "No, that you mayn't." "But the elastic's so tight it's cutting my chin. Why mayn't I?" "You can't till the funeral's over." "It is over. They've put father in the ground." "It isn't over till we've had tea, and you keep your hat on till it's over." For answer Ellen tore off her pork-pie hat and threw it on the floor.
I told you to put on the red one." Kenelm fingered his tie. "I I cal'late I must have forgot, Hannah," he stammered. "I never noticed. This one's all right, ain't it?" "All right! It'll have to be. You can't change it now. But, for goodness sakes, look out it stays on. The elastic's all worn loose and it's li'ble to drop into your tea or anywheres else.
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