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"Hol' on a minnet! " Peter Witheby was crying to the major, as the latter, full of the importance and dignity of his position as protector of Migglesville, paced forward swiftly. The veteran already felt upon his brow a wreath formed of the flowers of gratitude, and as he strode he was absorbed in planning a calm and self-contained manner of wearing it. "Hol' on a minnet! " piped old Peter in the rear.
At last the major, aroused from his dream of triumph, turned about wrathfully. "Well, what?"