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Show A Conversation la tho Cloud. "What makes yon wear those little wings fastened into your slioes?" inquired in-quired Father Time, as Mercury was cutting a fow light capers in the air. "Why, father, that's thocorrect thing, you know; sort of indicative of my style, and all that sort of thing." "Humph," replied Father Time, as he gently rubbed the edgo of bis scythe with a piece of whetstone, "I reckon the only thing for mo to do will be to got clocks ou my socks, won't it?" Washington Post. |