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THE RUBBER PLANT’S STORY
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stand under a rubber plant! Seems to me they are stretching matters somewhat.”

“Do I not,” says she, looking up at him and sneaking close to his vest, “and now I say it again, and it is to last forever. Look, Dick, at its leaves, how wet they are. Those are my tears, and it was thinking of you that made them fall.”

“The dear old magnolias!” says the young man, pinching one of my leaves. “I love them all.”

Magnolia! Well, wouldn’t that—say! those innocents thought I was a magnolia! What the—well, wasn’t that tough on a genuine little old New York rubber plant?

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