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The Story of Patsy by Kate Douglas Smith Wiggin
page 12 of 51 (23%)
one's pocket for a biscuit or a ten-cent piece. But such a face! He had
apparently made an attempt at a toilet without the aid of a mirror, for
there was a clean circle like a race-track round his nose, which member
reared its crest, untouched and grimy, from the centre, like a sort of
judge's stand, while the dusky rim outside represented the space for
audience seats.

I gazed at this astonishing diagram of a countenance for a minute,
spellbound, thinking it resembled nothing so much as a geological map,
marked with coal deposits. And as for his clothes, his jacket was ragged
and arbitrarily docked at the waist, while one of his trousers-legs was
slit up at the side, and flapped hither and thither when he moved, like
a lug-sail in a calm.

"Well, sir," said I at length, waking up to my duties as hostess, "did
you come to see me?"

"Yes, I did."

"Let me think; I don't seem to remember; I am so sleepy. Are you one of
my little friends?"

"No, I hain't yit, but I'm goin' to be."

"That's good, and we'll begin right now, shall we?"

"I knowed yer fur Miss Kate the minute I seen yer."

"How was that, eh?"

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