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“ Fil sit liere with the baby until you come
back, Mother Brita,” said I.
“ Yes, I will too.”
“ So will I, and I.” All four of us wanted
to stav.
“Oh, oh! What kind little giris!” said
Mother Brita. “ I will fly like the wind. Just
raise hini up when the spells come on. I won’t
be long on the way either going or coming.
Well, good-bye, and I’m mueh obliged to you.”
With that Mother Brita was out of the house,
having barelv taken time to throw a
handker-chief over her head.
There we sat. It was a strange ending to
an afternoon of fun and mischief. The room
was very stuffv; a small candle stood on the
table and burned with a long, smoky flame, and
back in a corner an old clock ticked very
slowl v, tick—tock!—tick—tock!
We talked only in whispers. Verv soon the
baby had another coughing fit. We raised him
up and iie choked and strangled as before, and
after the coughing, cried as if in pain, without
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