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have holes and his feet
are wet and cold—a pair
of Volties old boots he left
home last spring, poor Arthur.
I'm sorry for him, for he is so
uncomplaining. Maud swept
and straightened the rooms.
We made fried cakes and mince
and apple pie and sauce for
supper. Arthur drives to dock
for Sr & Grace, snow drifted in
roads, Sr walked home all right
but foot sore, had supper all
ready.