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"Please to pay me.... Let me sell you...! Let me borrow...! Won't you hire...! Quack! Quack! Quack!" After him hurried the others in an excited group. The Piper led it, his plumbing-tools jangling, his pig-poke a-swing. And Gwendolyn saw him grin back over a shoulder craftily then lay hold of her father and tighten a strap. She trudged in the rear.
What people don't see they don't want to buy even when it's covered up stylish." The little company was well on its way by now though Gwendolyn could not recall the moment of starting. The Piper had not waited to be invited, but strolled along with the others, his birch-stemmed tobacco-pipe in a corner of his mouth, his hands in his pockets, and the pig-poke a-swing at his elbow.
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