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Peter rubbed his eyes and stared very foolishly. "Wh-wh-where did you come from?" he stammered at last. Old Mr. Toad grinned. "I'll show you," said he. And right while Peter was looking at him, he began to sink down into the ground until only the top of his head could be seen. Then that disappeared. Old Mr. Toad had gone down, and the sand had fallen right back over him.
"Y-y-you really m-mean it?" he asked, eagerly, as though fearing the return to daylight might already have altered her decision. "C-can I c-call on you wh-wh-where you s-s-said?" She smiled sweetly down at him, her eyes picturing undisguised admiration of his generous proportions, and frank, boyish face. "Si, si, señor. Sapristi, why not? 'T is I, rather, who 'fraid you forget to come."
And starting away from the old man, he ran two or three paces, and then sprang clear over the head of a young lady, frightening her almost out of her wits. "There! Who'll match me that? Jim Haley's the boy what's hard to beat! Whoo-oo-oop, hurrah! But where's Clara? Where's my dear little wifie? Ah! there No, that isn't her, neither. Wh-wh-where is the little jade?"
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