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Updated: June 17, 2025
Symes," said J. Collins Prescott after he had been duly presented with a cabana by that gentleman, "and it is v-very attractive, I might say a-alluring." Symes beamed benignly. "You think so? I tell Mudge there's one fault I have to find with it it's too conservative." "A good fault," commended Mr. Prescott.
"Stand by the pail, Rebecca! Samuel Simpson how many times have you asked for water already?" "This is the f-f-fourth." "Don't touch the dipper, please. The school has done nothing but drink all day; it has had no time whatever to study. What is the matter with you, Samuel?" "It is a v-very thirsty m-morning," remarked Samuel, looking at Rebecca while the school tittered. "I judged so.
"Goodness," she said faintly, and attempted to rise. But her fish tail fettered her. "Are you real!" gasped Kingsbury. "Y-yes.... Are you?" "Great James!" he half shouted, half sobbed, "are you human?" "V-very. Are you?" He clutched at the weedy rock and dragged himself up. For a moment he lay breathing fast, water dripping from his soaked clothing.
"Y-yes Fancy," stammered Palmerston, blushing furiously, shutting his eyes and dropping his voice to a whisper. "That's better. . . . What does it feel like? Pleasant?" "V-very pleasant, miss Fancy, I mean. It it'll come in time," pleaded Palmerston, still red to the eyes. "That's right, again. Because I want you to marry me, Pammy dear."
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