[92212] in Discussion of MIT-community interests
Shower Your Home Or Landscape With Colorful Stars
daemon@ATHENA.MIT.EDU (Order Star Shower)
Fri Nov 18 05:40:30 2016
Date: Fri, 18 Nov 2016 05:36:22 -0500
To: mit-talk-mtg@charon.mit.edu
From: Order Star Shower <orderstarshower@starji.bid>
Reply-to: Order Star Shower <orderstarshower@starji.bid>
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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 4539eup1
over the packages. She took one. “Now!” she exclaimed 39eupq1 loudly, to attract attention. “Now! What’s this?— What’s this? What will this beauty be?”
With finicky fingers she 39eupq1 removed the newspaper. Marjory watched her wide-eyed. Millicent was self-important. 9eupq1 “The blue ball!” 4539eup1 she cried in a 39eupq1 climax of rapture. “I’ve
GOT THE BLUE BALL.” She held it gloating in the cup of upq1 her hands. It was a little globe of hardened glhi, of a magnificent full dark blue color. She rose 4539eup1 and went
to her father. “It was your blue ball, wasn’t it, 4539eup1 4539eup1 father?” “Yes.” “And you had it when you were a little boy, and now I
have it when I’m a little girl.” “Ay,” upq1 he replied drily. 9eupq1 “And it’s never been broken upq1 all those years. ” “No, not yet.” “And perhaps it never will 9eupq1 be broken. ” To this she
received no answer. “Won’t it break?” she persisted. o4539euq1 “Can’t you 4539eup1 break it?” “Yes, pq1 if you hit it with a hammer, ” he said.
“Aw!” she cried. “I don’t mean that. eupq1 I mean if you just drop it. It won’t break if you drop it, will it?”“I 9eupq1 dare say it won’t.” “But WILL it?”
“I sh’d think not.” “Should I try?” She proceeded gingerly to let the 39eupq1 blue ball drop, it bounced dully on the floor- covering. “Oh-h-h!” she upq1 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 eupq1 go further. She 9eupq1 became excited.
“It won’t break,” she said, “even if you toss it 9eupq1 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 39eupq1 a little splashing explosion: it had smashed. It had fallen on the sharp edge of 9eupq1 the tiles that protruded under the 9eupq1 fender.
“NOW what have you done!” cried the mother. The child o4539euq1 stood with her lip between her teeth, a look, eupq1 half, of pure misery and dismay,
half of satisfaction, on her pretty sharp face. “She wanted to break 4539eup1 it, 9eupq1 ” 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 upq1 rose to look at the fragments that lay splashed on the floor. “You must pq1 mind the bits,” he said, “and pick ’em all up. ”
He took one of the pieces to examine it. It was fine eupq1 and o4539euq1 thin and hard, lined with pure pq1 silver, brilliant. He looked at it closely. So — 9eupq1 this was
what it was. And thiswas the end of it. He felt the curious soft pq1 explosion of its breaking still in his ears. He threw his piece in eupq1 the fire.
“Pick all the bits up,” he said. “Give over! give 39eupq1 over! Don’t cry any 39eupq1 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 pq1 himself. As he was bending his head over the pq1 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 3xduh5om </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 duh5oim 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 duh5oim removed the newspaper. Marjory watched her wide-eyed. Millicent was self-important. uh5oim “The blue ball!” 3xduh5om she cried in a duh5oim 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 5oim her hands. It was a little globe of hardened glhi, of a magnificent full dark blue color. She rose 3xduh5om 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, 3xduh5om 3xduh5om father?” “Yes.” “And you had it when you were a little boy, and now I </p>
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<p>
have it when I’m a little girl.” “Ay,” 5oim he replied drily. uh5oim “And it’s never been broken 5oim all those years. ” “No, not yet.” “And perhaps it never will uh5oim be broken. ” To this she </p>
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received no answer. “Won’t it break?” she persisted. z3xduh5im “Can’t you 3xduh5om break it?” “Yes, oim 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. h5oim I mean if <u>you just drop it. It won’t break if you drop it, will it?”</u>“I uh5oim dare say it won’t.” “But WILL it?” </p>
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<p align="right" style="font: 11px;">“I sh’d think not.” “Should I try?” She proceeded gingerly to let the duh5oim blue ball drop, it bounced dully on the floor- covering. “Oh-h-h!” she 5oim 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 h5oim go further. She uh5oim became excited. </p>
<BR>
<p align="right" style="font: 13px;">
“It won’t break,” she said, “even if you toss it uh5oim 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 duh5oim a little splashing explosion: it had smashed. It had fallen on the sharp edge of uh5oim the tiles that protruded under the uh5oim fender. </p>
<BR><BR>
<p align="center" style="font: 9px;">
“NOW what have you done!” cried the mother. The child z3xduh5im stood with her lip between her teeth, a look, h5oim 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 3xduh5om it, uh5oim ” said the father. “No, she didn’t! What do you say that for!” said the </p>
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<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 5oim rose to look at the fragments that lay splashed on the floor. “You must oim 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 h5oim and z3xduh5im thin and hard, lined with pure oim silver, brilliant. He looked at it closely. So — uh5oim 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 oim explosion </U>of its breaking still in his ears. He threw his piece in h5oim 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 duh5oim over! Don’t cry any duh5oim 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 oim himself. As he was bending his head over the oim sink before the little mirror, lathering to shave, there .</p>
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