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How Henry Hagglyhoagly Played the Guitar with His Mittens On
Sometimes in January the sky comes down close if we walk on a country road, and turn our faces up to look at the sky.
Sometimes on that kind of a January night the stars look like numbers, look like the arithmetic writing of a girl going to school and just beginning arithmetic.
It was this kind of a night Henry Hagglyhoagly was walking down a country road on his way to the home of Susan Slackentwist, the
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