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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 142 pages of information about Pharoah's Army Got Drowned.

“For goodness’ sake, Mancy!” exclaimed Patty.  “Who said you might drive tacks all over these new walls, and where did you get all those pictures of yourself?”

“They does favour me, don’t they, missy?” exclaimed Mancy, beaming with delight, as she took another tack from her mouth, and pounded it into place.  “I got ’em from de grocer man, and co’se I has to tack ’em, else how would dey stay up?”

“But you have so many of them.”

“Laws, chile, only a dozen; youse got mo’n that on the libr’y wall.”

“But ours are different; these are all alike.”

“Co’se dey’s all alike!  I des nachelly gets tired of lookin’ at different pitchers.  It ’stracts my head.”

“I should think these would distract your head.  I feel as if I were in a kinetoscope.”

“Does that mean art-gal’ry?”

“Not exactly; but tell me, Mancy, did you get all these pictures because they looked like you?  And was the grocer willing to give you so many?”

“Yas’m.  But I ’spects I’ll hab to confess a little about dat, Miss Patty.  You see, I dun tole him I was gwine t’ work for yo’, and dat’s huccome he guv ’em to me.”

“That’s all right, Mancy.  After he gets that long order we made out this morning, I’m sure he’ll feel he was justified in favouring us; but get down out of that chair.  In the first place, you’ll fall and break your neck, and if you don’t, you’ll break the chair.  Get down, and I’ll tack up the rest of your pictures.”

“Thank you, missy, do; and I’ll hand you the tacks.  There’s only six more, anyhow.  I ’llowed to have three over the mantel, and two over that window, and one behind the door.”

“But you can’t see it; that door is usually open.”

“No’m; but I’ll know it’s there jes’ the same.”

“All right; here goes, then,” and soon Patty had the rest of the gaudy lithographs tacked into their designated places.

“Now, Mancy,” she said, as she jumped down from the chair for the last time, “you don’t want any other pictures, do you?  It would interfere with the artistic unities to introduce any other school.”

“Laws ‘a’ massy, chile; I don’t want to go to school!  Miss Patty, sometimes you does cert’nly talk like a Choctaw Injun.  Leastways, I can’t understand you.”

“It doesn’t really matter,” said Patty, “and we’re even, anyway; for I can’t understand why you want those fearful posters in your room, instead of the nice little pictures I had planned to give you.”

“Oh, yes; I knows yo’ nice little pictures! with a narrow black ban’, jes’ about the size ob a sheet of mo’nin’ paper!  No, thank you, missy, no black-bordered envelopes hanging on my wall!  Give me good reds and yallers and blues; the kind you can hear with yo’ eyes shut.  That is, ef yo’ don’t mind, missy.  Ef yo’ does, I’ll take ’em all right slam-bang down.”

“No, no, Mancy; it’s all right.  In your own room I want you to have just exactly what you want, and nothing else.  Now, let’s go and see how Pansy’s getting along.”

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