"But you aren't coming," protested she fretfully. "You never seem to come when you're wanted. Drat the child! Where is he? Carl!" "_Yes, Ma!_ _Yes, Ma!_" the woman mimicked impatiently. "It's easy enough to shout _Yes, Ma_; but where are you--that's what I want to know. You're the slowest creature on God's earth, I believe. A tortoise would be a race horse compared with you. What under the sun are you doing?"…
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