[90806] in Discussion of MIT-community interests
Shower Your Home Or Landscape With Colorful Stars
daemon@ATHENA.MIT.EDU (Original Star Shower)
Fri Oct 28 04:29:33 2016
Date: Fri, 28 Oct 2016 04:27:15 -0400
To: mit-talk-mtg@charon.mit.edu
From: Original Star Shower <originalstarshower@starhhs.top>
Reply-to: Original Star Shower <originalstarshower@starhhs.top>
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cheek, rather garish. “Oh!” exclaimed Millicent feverishly, instantly seized with desire for what she had not got, indifferent to what she had. Her eye ran quickly dzwpybck
over the packages. She took one. “Now!” she exclaimed wpybcik loudly, to attract attention. “Now! What’s this?— What’s this? What will this beauty be?”
With finicky fingers she wpybcik removed the newspaper. Marjory watched her wide-eyed. Millicent was self-important. pybcik “The blue ball!” dzwpybck she cried in a wpybcik climax of rapture. “I’ve
GOT THE BLUE BALL.” She held it gloating in the cup of bcik her hands. It was a little globe of hardened glhi, of a magnificent full dark blue color. She rose dzwpybck and went
to her father. “It was your blue ball, wasn’t it, dzwpybck dzwpybck father?” “Yes.” “And you had it when you were a little boy, and now I
have it when I’m a little girl.” “Ay,” bcik he replied drily. pybcik “And it’s never been broken bcik all those years. ” “No, not yet.” “And perhaps it never will pybcik be broken. ” To this she
received no answer. “Won’t it break?” she persisted. rdzwpybik “Can’t you dzwpybck break it?” “Yes, cik if you hit it with a hammer, ” he said.
“Aw!” she cried. “I don’t mean that. ybcik I mean if you just drop it. It won’t break if you drop it, will it?”“I pybcik dare say it won’t.” “But WILL it?”
“I sh’d think not.” “Should I try?” She proceeded gingerly to let the wpybcik blue ball drop, it bounced dully on the floor- covering. “Oh-h-h!” she bcik cried, catching it up. “I love it. ”
“Let ME drop it, ” cried Marjory, and there was a performance of admonition and demonstration from the elder sister. But Millicent must ybcik go further. She pybcik became excited.
“It won’t break,” she said, “even if you toss it pybcik up in the air.” She flung it up, it fell safely. But her father’s brow knitted slightly. She tossed it
wildly: it fell with wpybcik a little splashing explosion: it had smashed. It had fallen on the sharp edge of pybcik the tiles that protruded under the pybcik fender.
“NOW what have you done!” cried the mother. The child rdzwpybik stood with her lip between her teeth, a look, ybcik half, of pure misery and dismay,
half of satisfaction, on her pretty sharp face. “She wanted to break dzwpybck it, pybcik ” said the father. “No, she didn’t! What do you say that for!” said the
mother. And Millicent burst into a flood of tears. He bcik rose to look at the fragments that lay splashed on the floor. “You must cik mind the bits,” he said, “and pick ’em all up. ”
He took one of the pieces to examine it. It was fine ybcik and rdzwpybik thin and hard, lined with pure cik silver, brilliant. He looked at it closely. So — pybcik this was
what it was. And thiswas the end of it. He felt the curious soft cik explosion of its breaking still in his ears. He threw his piece in ybcik the fire.
“Pick all the bits up,” he said. “Give over! give wpybcik over! Don’t cry any wpybcik more.” The good- natured tone of his voice quieted the child, as he
intended it should. He went away into the back kitchen to wash cik himself. As he was bending his head over the cik sink before the little mirror, lathering to shave, there .
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<p>cheek, rather garish. “Oh!” exclaimed Millicent feverishly, instantly seized with desire for what she had not got, indifferent to what she had. Her eye ran quickly 2zr7xe3g </p>
<BR><span style="font-family: Tahoma, Courier New, Times New Roman, Arial;"></span>
<p align="right">
over the packages. She took one. “Now!” she exclaimed r7xe3pg loudly, to attract attention. “Now! What’s this?— What’s this? What will this beauty be?” </p>
<BR><BR>
<p align="center" style="font: 12px;"></p>
<BR>
<p align="center" style="font: 12px;">With finicky fingers she r7xe3pg removed the newspaper. Marjory watched her wide-eyed. Millicent was self-important. 7xe3pg “The blue ball!” 2zr7xe3g she cried in a r7xe3pg climax of rapture. “I’ve </p>
<BR><span style="font-family: Tahoma, Courier New, Times New Roman, Arial;"></span>
<p align="center" style="font: 14px;">
GOT THE BLUE BALL.” She held it gloating in the cup of e3pg her hands. It was a little globe of hardened glhi, of a magnificent full dark blue color. She rose 2zr7xe3g and went </p>
<BR><BR>
<p align="right" style="font: 11px;"></p>
<BR><BR><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif, Times New Roman, Arial; font-size: 9px;"></span>
<p align="center" style="font: 9px;">to her father. “It was your blue ball, wasn’t it, 2zr7xe3g 2zr7xe3g father?” “Yes.” “And you had it when you were a little boy, and now I </p>
<BR><BR>
<p align="left" style="font: 13px;"></p>
<BR><BR><span style="font-family: Tahoma, Courier New, Times New Roman, Arial; font-size: 7px; color: #ffffff;"></span>
<p>
have it when I’m a little girl.” “Ay,” e3pg he replied drily. 7xe3pg “And it’s never been broken e3pg all those years. ” “No, not yet.” “And perhaps it never will 7xe3pg be broken. ” To this she </p>
<BR>
<p>
received no answer. “Won’t it break?” she persisted. u2zr7xepg “Can’t you 2zr7xe3g break it?” “Yes, 3pg if you hit it with a hammer, ” he said. </p>
<BR><BR><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px;"></span>
<p></p>
<BR>
<p align="left" style="font: 10px;">
“Aw!” she cried. “I don’t mean that. xe3pg I mean if <u>you just drop it. It won’t break if you drop it, will it?”</u>“I 7xe3pg dare say it won’t.” “But WILL it?” </p>
<BR><BR><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif, Times New Roman, Arial; font-size: 10px;"></span>
<p align="left" style="font: 13px;"></p>
<BR>
<p align="left"></p>
<BR><BR>
<p align="right" style="font: 11px;">“I sh’d think not.” “Should I try?” She proceeded gingerly to let the r7xe3pg blue ball drop, it bounced dully on the floor- covering. “Oh-h-h!” she e3pg cried, catching it up. “I love it. ” </p>
<BR><BR>
<p align="left" style="font: 10px;"></p>
<BR><BR><span style="font-family: sans-serif, Helvetica, Arial; font-size: 8px; color: #ffffff;"></span>
<p align="left">“Let ME drop it, ” cried Marjory, and there was a performance of admonition and demonstration from the elder sister. But Millicent must xe3pg go further. She 7xe3pg became excited. </p>
<BR>
<p align="right" style="font: 13px;">
“It won’t break,” she said, “even if you toss it 7xe3pg up in the air.” She flung it up, it fell safely. But her father’s brow knitted slightly. She tossed it </p>
<BR><span style="font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif;"></span>
<p align="center" style="font: 12px;">
wildly: it fell with r7xe3pg a little splashing explosion: it had smashed. It had fallen on the sharp edge of 7xe3pg the tiles that protruded under the 7xe3pg fender. </p>
<BR><BR>
<p align="center" style="font: 9px;">
“NOW what have you done!” cried the mother. The child u2zr7xepg stood with her lip between her teeth, a look, xe3pg half, of pure misery and dismay, </p>
<BR><BR>
<p align="center" style="font: 15px;"></p>
<BR><BR><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif, Helvetica, Arial; font-size: 8px;"></span>
<p align="right" style="font: 15px;">half of satisfaction, on her pretty sharp face. “She wanted to break 2zr7xe3g it, 7xe3pg ” said the father. “No, she didn’t! What do you say that for!” said the </p>
<BR>
<p align="right" style="font: 12px;"></p>
<BR><BR><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif, Times New Roman, Arial;"></span>
<p align="center" style="font: 13px;">mother. And Millicent burst into a flood of tears. He e3pg rose to look at the fragments that lay splashed on the floor. “You must 3pg mind the bits,” he said, “and pick ’em all up. ” </p>
<BR>
<p>
He took one of the pieces to examine it. It was fine xe3pg and u2zr7xepg thin and hard, lined with pure 3pg silver, brilliant. He looked at it closely. So — 7xe3pg this was </p>
<BR><BR><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif, Times New Roman, Arial; font-size: 7px;"></span>
<p align="center" style="font: 10px;">
what it was. And this<U>was the end of it. He felt the curious soft 3pg explosion </U>of its breaking still in his ears. He threw his piece in xe3pg the fire. </p>
<BR><BR><span style="font-family: sans-serif, Helvetica, Arial; font-size: 10px;"></span>
<p align="right" style="font: 9px;">
“Pick all the bits up,” he said. “Give over! give r7xe3pg over! Don’t cry any r7xe3pg more.” The good- natured tone of his voice quieted the child, as he </p>
<BR><BR><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif, Times New Roman, Arial;"></span>
<p align="left">
intended it should. He went away into the back kitchen to wash 3pg himself. As he was bending his head over the 3pg sink before the little mirror, lathering to shave, there .</p>
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