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Updated: May 19, 2025
"It had a deep voice for an ordinary frog betwixt a French horn and a bark-mill. And Mrs. Barnes told me herself that often, when John'd get comfortably fixed in bed and just dropping off into a nap, the frog'd think it was a convenient time for some music; and after hopping about a bit, it'd all at once grind out three or four awful 'Bloo-oo-ood-a-nouns' and wake Mrs.
He stood leaning against the casing, watching her floury hands at their deft work. "He come here, not ten minutes ago," said Charlotte, "after your Uncle John. He had a gun. I never see Isr'el Tenney with a gun. 'Pa'tridge shootin, he said. Pa'tridges, when you can't see your hand afore you in the woods! I told him Uncle John'd gone up to the hut.
Ann rose and went weakly out. "There 'tis in the back o' the wagon," said Mrs. John C. "John'd git out, but the colt's possessed to start, an' I don't like to be left with the reins. Mercy, Ann! what's the matter o' you? You feel sick?" Ann had dragged out the heavy jug, but there was no strength in her lean arms, and she swayed almost to the ground.
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