“I don’t know,” said Mrs. Zacky, “that I holds wi’ secret chatter between grown men. Whispering together just like they was babies. What was you whispering about, Zachariah?” “About how many spots there was on the moon,” said Zacky. “Mark says ninety-eight and I says an hundred and two, so we agrees to leave it till we see the preacher.” “I’ll have none of your blaspheming in here,” said Mrs. Zacky. But she said
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