cheek, rather garish. âOh!â exclaimed Millicent feverishly, instantly seized with desire for what she had not got, indifferent to what she had. Her eye ran quickly 068pr4ti
over the packages. She took one. âNow!â she exclaimed 8pr4tli loudly, to attract attention. âNow! Whatâs this?â" Whatâs this? What will this beauty be?â
With finicky fingers she 8pr4tli removed the newspaper. Marjory watched her wide-eyed. Millicent was self-important. pr4tli âThe blue ball!â 068pr4ti she cried in a 8pr4tli climax of rapture. âIâve
GOT THE BLUE BALL.â She held it gloating in the cup of 4tli her hands. It was a little globe of hardened glhi, of a magnificent full dark blue color. She rose 068pr4ti and went
to her father. âIt was your blue ball, wasnât it, 068pr4ti 068pr4ti father?â âYes.â âAnd you had it when you were a little boy, and now I
have it when Iâm a little girl.â âAy,â 4tli he replied drily. pr4tli âAnd itâs never been broken 4tli all those years. â âNo, not yet.â âAnd perhaps it never will pr4tli be broken. â To this she
received no answer. âWonât it break?â she persisted. u068pr4li âCanât you 068pr4ti break it?â âYes, tli if you hit it with a hammer, â he said.
âAw!â she cried. âI donât mean that. r4tli I mean if you just drop it. It wonât break if you drop it, will it?ââI pr4tli dare say it wonât.â âBut WILL it?â
âI shâd think not.â âShould I try?â She proceeded gingerly to let the 8pr4tli blue ball drop, it bounced dully on the floor- covering. âOh-h-h!â she 4tli cried, catching it up. âI love it. â
âLet ME drop it, â cried Marjory, and there was a performance of admonition and demonstration from the elder sister. But Millicent must r4tli go further. She pr4tli became excited.
âIt wonât break,â she said, âeven if you toss it pr4tli up in the air.â She flung it up, it fell safely. But her fatherâs brow knitted slightly. She tossed it
wildly: it fell with 8pr4tli a little splashing explosion: it had smashed. It had fallen on the sharp edge of pr4tli the tiles that protruded under the pr4tli fender.
âNOW what have you done!â cried the mother. The child u068pr4li stood with her lip between her teeth, a look, r4tli half, of pure misery and dismay,
half of satisfaction, on her pretty sharp face. âShe wanted to break 068pr4ti it, pr4tli â said the father. âNo, she didnât! What do you say that for!â said the
mother. And Millicent burst into a flood of tears. He 4tli rose to look at the fragments that lay splashed on the floor. âYou must tli mind the bits,â he said, âand pick âem all up. â
He took one of the pieces to examine it. It was fine r4tli and u068pr4li thin and hard, lined with pure tli silver, brilliant. He looked at it closely. So â" pr4tli this was
what it was. And thiswas the end of it. He felt the curious soft tli explosion of its breaking still in his ears. He threw his piece in r4tli the fire.
âPick all the bits up,â he said. âGive over! give 8pr4tli over! Donât cry any 8pr4tli more.â The good- natured tone of his voice quieted the child, as he
intended it should. He went away into the back kitchen to wash tli himself. As he was bending his head over the tli sink before the little mirror, lathering to shave, there .
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