In the tiny bedroom in town Johnny Blossom laid his brown head on the pillow. “Thank you, dear God, thank you, thank you,” he murmured, and said no more, for he was overpowered by sleep.,
“I’ve got a better place than this to see it from,” said Mr. Whitney. “A lot of folks will be coming out here presently and too many people spoil the thing. Come along.”,
“Well, John,” said Mother. “What is the matter?”.
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