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'And send you a gazelle, and you shall call it by my name, dear mother. 'Darling child! 'You know I have often stayed a month at grand-papa's, and once six weeks. Why! eight times six weeks, and I shall be home again. 'Home! home again! eight times six weeks; a year, nearly a year! It seems eternity. Winter, and spring, and summer, and winter again, all to pass away.
Yes, little pet must look her prettiest, for grand-papa's eyes are not so dim, that the sight of a pretty face doesn't cheer him like a ray of glad sunlight; so the glossy waves of golden hair are nicely combed, and the bright dress put on, to heighten, by contrast, the dimpled fairness of the neck and shoulders; then, the little white apron, to keep all tidy; then the Cinderella boots, neatly laced.
On they dash! it half takes her breath away but she is not afraid; no, indeed! What little darling ever could be afraid, when its hand was in mamma's love clasp? Alas! poor little pet! Grand-papa's eye grow weary watching for you, at the little cottage window.
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