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"Oh, for the tongue of au angel," soliloquized Milly one autumn afternoon when alone, as she sup posed, but Kate was just within hearing.

You little wicked minx to be covetin' what you ca.n't have and what wouldn't do you no good. 'Spose you was an angel, what would it amount to? 'Spose I should turn into one, for all the preachin' there is about it, I guess they'd want me to turn into a sinner again and make 'em somethin' good to eat, for I couldn't do that and be flyin' up into heaven every minute. That's the way with these folks that preach so much, they don't do more'n other folks when it comes to practice, 'cause they are always thinkin' of some great thing that's a goin' to be done sometime, nobody knows when nor who's a goin' to do it."

"I didn't say I wished I was an angel, but that I had the tongue of an angel to give utterance to my thoughts and feelings, and I should be happier."

"So you would, but I'm doubtful whether angels have tongues. That kind o'talk they have, I b'lieve, ain't done by word of mouth. I'll toll you what