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Picking her way over the dark rough boards of the woodshed, she went in and got him the scraps from her supper. He lapped them up at once, then looked at her it seemed, beseechingly. She stood as far back from him she could, and held out a stiffened hand. He licked it with a long, ridged, curling tongue but when she tried to par his head he swung it sideways and away from her. (Bear, Chap. VI, p. 30)
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