Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter. ” “Cabmen are so trying,” Mrs. "I cannot scare him thence. " "There is a great art in it, if you did," quoth he. It feels like too much gold-dust clutched in one’s hand. " "Liar!" cried Jack. It is a lovely little appendage to the mother who smiles over it, and it does things quaintly like her, gestures with her very gestures. “Quite different. "Don't weep, my love," replied the lady, straining him still more closely to her. “I am off to-night,” he said. She never knew what became of her farmer after that.
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