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Walpole, Hugh, Sir, 1884-1941

"The Golden Scarecrow"

"Now, children, time to get ready for tea. Run
along, Miss Dorothy, now. What a nuisance you all are, to be sure."
They were removed from the scene. Bim was placed in the corner with his
face to the wall. He was aghast; no words can give, at all, any idea of
how dumbly aghast he was. What possessed him? What, in an instant of
time, had leapt down from the clouds, had sprung up from the Square and
seized him? Between his amazed thoughts came little surprised sobs. But
he had not abandoned himself to grief--he was too sternly set upon the
problem of reparation. Something must be done, and that quickly.
The great thought in his mind was that he must replace the mug. He had
not been very often in the streets beyond the Square, but upon certain
occasions he had seen their glories, and he knew that there had been
shops and shops and shops. Quite close to him, upon a shelf, was his
money-box, a squat, ugly affair of red tin, into whose large mouth he
had been compelled to force those gifts that kind relations had
bestowed. There must be now quite a fortune there--enough to buy many
mugs.


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