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"Come, girls," Nyoda called cheerily, "'Fire's gwine out, time to sing 'Mammy Moon' and then go home." She poked the last embers of the fire into a little blaze, and the light and the lively measures of the song took Oh-Pshaw's mind off the gurgling water. "Cross my heart, Mammy Moon, Termorrer I'll be an angel coon, I'll be a chile dat'll make you smile, Good o-l-e Mam-my M-o-o-n!"
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