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Updated: May 18, 2025
Burt all that he knew about the project of the school, Mr. Burt rang the bell violently. "Send Miss Hope to me." The servant disappeared, and in a few moments Hope Wayne entered the room. To Dr. Peewee's eyes she seemed wrapped only in a cloud of delicate muslin, and the wind had evidently been playing with her golden hair, for she had been lying upon the lawn reading Byron.
He hands us some info about everybody who's alive in Mount Clinton 'n' then starts in on the cemetery. He works back till he's talkin' about some 'dead an' gone these twenty year, as he says. "I happens to look at Peewee Peewee's in a trance. He can't look away. He's noddin' his head 'n' his eyes has got a glassy stare. I goes outside quick 'n' lays up against the side of the buildin'.
There was no doubt that Roy and the troop were coming; apparently they were coming in their usual manner, for there was a card from Roy to Uncle Jeb which said, Coming Saturday on afternoon train. Hope you can give us a tent away from the crowd. Tell Chocolate Drop to have wheat cakes Sunday morning. Peewee's appetite being sent ahead by express. Pay charges. So long, see you later.
"He may have some message, Sir," said Hiram, who had heard the preceding conversation. "Have you got any message?" asked Mr. Burt. "No, Sir; but I " "Then why, in Heaven's name, don't you go?" "Mr. Burt," said Abel, with placid persistence, "being one of Mr. Gray's boys, I go of course to Dr. Peewee's Church, and there I have so often seen " "Come, come, Sir, this is a little too much.
I wouldn't resk the seats this mornin' if I was you. "'What's wrong with 'em? says Mrs. Boone, 'n' pokes her head in the door. 'Land a Liberty! she says. 'I shall certainly write to the Banner about this! I call it disgraceful! Then she sets down on the trunk. "I'm standin' up, but Peewee's still on it. She covers the whole trunk, but a little corner, 'n' Peewee tries to set on that.
"These punkin races is all half-mile dashes, best two out of three. Peewee's geldin' is a distance hoss he don't get goin' good under a mile. In a bull-ring sprint he ain't got a chance with this black stud of Butsy's. "Our game is to have Butsy turn his dash-hound loose the first heat.
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