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"Why, ye see, boys, she was as withered and wrinkled and brown as an old frosted punkin-vine; and her little snaky eyes sparkled and snapped, and it made yer head kind o' dizzy to look at 'em; and folks used to say that anybody that Ketury got mad at was sure to get the worst of it fust or last.
The island was as pretty a bit of land as ever lay betwixt sea and sky; full of tall cocoa-nut palms, with broad, feathery tops, and bunches of brown nuts; bananas hung in yellow clumps ready to drop off at a touch; and big bread-fruit trees stood about everywhere, lookin' as though a punkin-vine had climbed up into 'em and hung half-ripe punkins off of every bough; beside lots of other trees that the natives set great store by, and live on the fruit of 'em; and flyin' through all, such pretty birds as you never see except in them parts; but one brown thrasher'd beat the whole on 'em singin'; fact is, they run to feathers; they don't sing none.
"Oh, Valentine, fair Valentine," said Van Reypen to Patty, as they danced. "Wilt thou be mine, and I'lt be thine," returned Patty, in mocking sing-song tones. "Forever may our hearts entwine," improvised Philip, in tune to the music. "Like chickwood round a punkin-vine," Patty finished. "Pshaw, that's not sentimental. You should have said, Like sturdy oak and clinging vine."
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