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Stratton-Porter, Gene, 1863-1924

"Michael O'Halloran"

"You climb down right here, before
I'm arrested for a plain drunk."
"Don't you think it," called Mickey. "If you like your job, man, cotton up
to it; chuckle it under the chin, and get real familiar. See? Try grin,
'stead of grouch just one day and watch if the whole world doesn't look
better before night."
"Thanks kid, I'll think it over!" promised the driver.
Mickey hurried home to Peaches. He hid the cake and the hospital box under
the things he bought for supper and went to her with empty hands. He could
see she was tired and hungry, so he gave her a drink of milk, and
proceeded to the sponge bath and oil rub. These rested and refreshed her
so that Mickey demanded closed eyes, while he slipped the dainty night-
robe over her head, and tied the pink ribbon on her curls. Then he piled
the pillows, leaned her against them and brought the mirror.
"Now open your peepers, Flowersy-girl, and tell me how Miss O'Halloran
strikes you!" he exulted.
Peaches took one long look. She opened her mouth.


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