Her Prairie Knight
was tired to death. And so he climbed up high, into a funny bed on a shelf, and rested. And when he was rested he couldn't open the door, and he kicked and kicked, and then Beatrice came, and Mr. Cam'ron.
"And you said you'd help me find my one penny," he reminded Keith, blinking solemnly at him from the chair. "And I want to shake hands wis your big, high pony. I'm going to buy him wis my six pennies. Be'trice said I could."
Beatrice blushed, and Keith forgot where he was, for a minute, looking at her.
"Come and find my one shiny penny," Dorman commanded, climbing down. "And I want Be'trice to come. Be'trice can always find things."
"Beatrice cannot go," said his grandmother, who didn't much like the way Keith hovered near Beatrice, nor the look in his eyes. "Beatrice is tired."
"I want Be'trice!" Dorman set up his everyday howl, which started the dogs barking outside. His guardian angel attempted to soothe him, but he would have none of her; he only howled the louder, and kicked.
"There, there, honey, I'll go. Where's your hat?"
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