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"That horthe ith thlow ath a old moolly cow! It'th an old thlow-poke! What a thkinny nag! That horthe eath nothin' but newthpaper and thtring!" he yelled. "That Chub is just a horrid-looking child," said Patricia, "an' he's the Jimmy boy's brother, but nobody'd ever think it." "Who's the Jimmy boy?" Arabella asked. "Why, don't you know the boy that we see sometimes at Dorothy Dainty's house?"
They will sing tunes such as canaries don't know how. We'll give them our tea and coffee, and we'll drink what d'ye call it? O, here's some." Dotty took up the pail. "You see how white it is; sugar frosting in it. Drink a little, it's so nice." "It tastes just like moolly cow's milk," said Flyaway, wiping her lips with her finger.
"Soon came Miss Herries in a straw hat, and the prettiest green petticoat under a white gown and apron, as a dairy-maid, but the cow would not stand still, for all the man who led her kept scolding her and saying 'Coop! coop! No sooner had Miss Herries seated herself on the stool than Moolly swerved away, and it was a mercy that the fine china bowl escaped.
One peoples the place with imaginary martial figures, and is almost startled when the stillness is broken by a rustle and approaching footsteps, and turns, as if expecting to see glittering uniforms appearing through the crumbling arch; but it is only old Moolly, who deliberately walks into the inner enclosure, and, if "our special artist on the spot" has left his sketch for a moment, probably puts her foot in it, with the air of one who should say, "Who are you who dare invade my realm?"
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