"Mother—dear mother!" said Jack, bursting into tears. But he can't have his eyes always about him, or he'd have been with us this morning at the Mint, eh, Mr. And―and he wanted to help you. My sister made me over, you know. Lucy had baked the apple and pumpkin pies, carefully molding the flour crusts and adding extra teaspoonfuls of allspice and cinnamon while no one looked. It is a very small affair, after all, and you can pay me back if you will.
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