Text Leveling System

The Great Gilly Hopkins

RDQ:	1976	Max Word/Sent	55	Total Words	4854		Diff Words	1254
Lex	900	Ave Word/.Sent	9	Hi Freq occurs	3615	74.5%	Hi freq	535	42.7%
AR	4.9	Long Sentences	12.3	Low Freq occurs	319	6.6%	Low freq	242	19.3%

Welcome to Thompson Park
"Gilly," said Miss Ellis with a shake of her long blonde hair toward the passenger in the back seat. "I need to feel that you are willing to make some effort."
Galadriel Hopkins shifted her bubble gum to the front of her mouth and began to blow gently. She blew until she could barely see the shape of the social worker's head through the pink bubble.
"This will be your third home in less than three years." Miss Ellis swept her golden head left to right and then began to turn the wheel in a cautious maneuver to the left. "I would be the last person to say that it was all your fault. The Dixons' move to Florida, for example. Just one of those unfortunate things. And Mrs. Richmond having to go into the hospital"it seemed to Gilly that there was a long,]]
thoughtful pause before the caseworker went on"for her nerves.."
Pop!
Miss Ellis flinched and glanced in the rear-view mirror but continued to talk in her calm, professional voice while Gilly picked at the bits of gum stuck in her straggly bangs and on her cheeks and chin. "We should have been more alert to her condition before placing any foster child there. I should have been more alert." Gripes, thought Gilly. The woman was getting sincere. What a pain. "I'm not trying to blow you, Gilly. It's just that I need, we all need, your cooperation if any kind of arrangement is to work out." Another pause. "I can't imagine you enjoy all this moving around." The blue eyes in the mirror were checking out Gilly's response. "Now this new foster mother is very different from Mrs. Nevins." Gilly calmly pinched a blob of gum off the end of her nose. There was no use trying to get the gum out of her hair: She sat back and tried to chew the bit she had managed to salvage. It stuck to her teeth in a thin layer. She fished another ball of gum from her jeans pocket and scraped the lint off with her thumbnail before elaborately popping it into her mouth:
"Will you do me a favor, Gilly? Try to get off on the right foot?"
Gilly had a vision of herself sailing around the living room of the foster home on her right foot like an ice skater. With her uplifted left foot she was shoving the next foster mother square in the mouth. She smacked her new supply of gum in satisfaction.
"Do me another favor, will you? Get rid of that bubble gum before we get there?"]]
Gilly obligingly took the gum out of her mouth while Miss Ellis's eyes were still in the mirror. Then when the social worker turned her attention back to the traffic, Gilly carefully spread the gum under the handle of the left hand door as a sticky surprise for the next person who might try to open it.
Two traffic lights farther on Miss Ellis handed back a towelette. "Here," she said, "see what you can do about that guck on your face before we get there."
Gilly swiped the little wet paper across her mouth and dropped it on the floor:
"Gilly" Miss Ellis sighed and shifted her fancy on the floor gears. "Gilly"
"My name," Gilly said between her teeth, "is Galadriel." Miss Ellis appeared not to have heard. "Gilly, give Maime Trotter half a chance; OK? She's really a nice person." That cans it, thought Gilly. At least nobody had accused Mr. or Mrs. Nevins, her most recent foster parents, of being "nice." Mrs. Richmond, the one with the bad nerves, had been "nice." The Newman family, who couldn't keep a five year old who wet herbed, had been "nice." Well, I'm eleven now, folks, and, in case you haven't heard, I don't wet my bed anymore. But I am not nice. I am brilliant. I am famous across this entire county. Nobody wants to tangle with the great Galadriel Hopkins. I am too clever and too hard to manage. Gruesome Gilly, they call me. She leaned back comfortably. Here I come, Maime baby, ready or not.
They had reached a neighborhood of huge trees and old houses. The social worker slowed and stopped beside a dirty white fence. The house it penned was old and brown with a porch that gave it a sort of potbelly.]]
Standing on the porch, before she rang the bell, Miss Ellis took out a comb. "Would you try to pull this through your hair?"
Gilly shook her head. "Can't." "Oh, come on, Gilly"
"No. Can't comb my hair. I'm going for the Guineas Record for uncombed hair."
Oh, Gilly, for pete's sake . : ."
"Hey, there, I thought I heard y'all pull up." The door had opened, and a huge hippopotamus of a woman was filling the doorway. "Welcome to Thompson Park, Gilly, honey."
"Galadriel," muttered Gilly, not that she expected this bale of blubber to manage her real name. Jeez, they didn't have to put her in with a freak.
Half a small face, topped: with muddy brown hair and masked with thick metal rimmed glasses, jutted out from behind Mrs. Trotter's mammoth hip.
The woman looked down. "Well, scuse me, honey." She put her arm around the head as if to draw it forward, but the head resisted movement. "You want to meet your new sister, don't you? Gilly, this is William Ernest Teague."
The head immediately disappeared behind Mrs. Trotter's bulk. She didn't seem bothered. "Come in, come in. I don't mean to leave you standing on the porch like you was trying to sell me something. You belong here now." She backed up. Gilly could feel Miss Ellis's fingers on her backbone gently prodding her through the doorway and into the house.
Inside, it was dark and crammed with junk. Everything seemed to need dusting.]]
"William Ernest, honey, you want to show Gilly where her room is?"
William Ernest dung to the back of Mrs. Trotter's flowered housedress, shaking his head.
"Oh, well, we can see to that later." She led them down the hallway to a living room. "Just sit down and make yourself at home, now." She smiled all across her face at Lilly, like the "After" in a magazine diet ad a "Before" body with an "After" smile.
The couch was brown and squat with a pile of cushions covered in graying lace at the far end. A matching brown chair with worn arms slumped at the opposite side of the room. Gray lace curtains hung at the single window between them, and beside the window was a black table supporting an old time TV set with rabbit ears. The Nevinses had had color TV. On the right hand wall between the door and the brown chair stood a black upright piano with a dusty brown bench. Gilly took one of the pillows off the couch and used it to wipe every trace of dust off the piano bench before sitting down on it.
From the brown chair Miss Ellis was staring at her with a very nonprofessional glare. Mrs. Trotter was lowering herself to the sofa and chuckling. "Well, we been needing somebody to rearrange the dust around here. Ain't we, William Ernest, honey?"
William Ernest climbed up behind the huge woman and lay behind her back like a bolster pillow, poking his head around from time to time to sneak another look at Gilly.
She waited until Mrs. Trotter and Miss Ellis were talking, then gave little W.E. the most fearful face in all her repertory of scary looks, sort of a cross between Count Dracula]]
and Godzilla. The little muddy head disappeared faster than a toothpaste cap down a sink drain.
She giggled despite herself. Both of the women turned to look at her. She switched easily and immediately to her "Who, me?" look.
Miss Ellis stood up. "I need to be getting back to the office, Mrs. Trotter. You'll let me know"She turned to Gilly with prickles in her big blue eyes "you'll let me know if there're any problems?"
Gilly favored Miss Ellis with her best barracuda smile. Meantime Mrs. Trotter was laboriously hefting herself to her feet. "Don't worry, Miz Ellis. Gilly and William Ernest and me is nearly friends already. My Melvin, God rest him, used to say that Trotter never met a stranger. And if he'd said kid, he woulda been right. I never met a kid I couldn't make friends with."
Gilly hadn't learned yet how to vomit at will, but if she had, she would have dearly loved to throw up on that one. So, lacking the truly perfect response, she lifted her legs and spun around to the piano, where she proceeded to bang out "Heart and Soul" with her left hand and "Chop sticks" with her right.
William Ernest scrambled off the couch after the two women, and Gilly was left alone with the dust, the out of tune piano, and the satisfaction that she had indeed started off on the right foot in her new foster home. She could stand anything, she thought a gross guardian, a freaky kid, an ugly, dirty house as long as she was in charge. She was well on the way.]]
The Man Who Comes to Supper
T HE room that Mrs. Trotter took Gilly to was about the size of the Nevinses new station wagon. The narrow bed filled up most of the space, and even someone as skinny as Gilly had to kneel on the bed in order to pull out the drawers of the bureau opposite it. Mrs. Trotter didn't even try to come in, just stood in the doorway slightly swaying and smiling, her breath short from climbing the stairs.
"Why don't you just put your things away in the bureau and get yourself settled? Then when you feel like it, you can come on  down and watch TV with William Ernest, or come talk to me while I'm fixing supper."
What an awful smile she had, Gilly thought. She didn't even have all her teeth. Gilly dropped her suitcase on the]]
bed and sat down beside it, kicking the bureau drawers with her toes.
"You need anything, honey, just let Trotter know, OK?" Gilly jerked her head in a nod. What she needed was to be left alone. From the bowels of the house she could hear the theme song from Sesame Street Her first job would be to improve W.E. taste in TV. That was for sure.
"It's goin' to be OK, honey. I know it's been hard to switch around so much."
"I like moving." Gilly jerked one of the top drawers so hard it nearly came out onto her head. "It's boring to stay in one place."
"Yeah." The big woman started to turn and then hesitated. "Well "
Gilly slid off the bed and put her left hand on the doorknob and stuck her right hand on her hip.
Mrs. Trotter glanced down at the hand on the knob. "Well, make yourself at home. You hear now?"
Gilly slammed. the door after her. God! Listening to that woman was like licking melted ice cream off the carton. She tested the dust on the top of the bureau, and then, standing on the bed, wrote in huge cursive curlicues, "Ms. Galadriel Hopkins." She stared. at the lovely letters she had made for a moment before slapping down her open palm in the middle of them and rubbing them all away.
The Nevinses house had been square and white and dustless, just like every other square, white, dustless house in the treeless development where they had lived. She had been the only thing in the neighborhood out of place. Well, Hollywood Gardens was spotless once more. They'd got rid of her. No. She'd got rid of them the whole stinking lot.]]
Unpacking even just the few things in her brown suitcase, always seemed a waste of time to Gilly. She never knew if she'd be in a place long enough to make it worth the bother. And yet it was something to fill the time. There were two little drawers at the top and four larger ones below. She put her underwear in one of the little ones, and her shirts and jeans in one of the big ones, and then picked up the photograph from the bottom of the suitcase.
Out of the pasteboard frame and through the plastic cover the brown eyes of the woman laughed up at her as they always did. The glossy black hair hung in gentle waves without a hair astray. She looked as though she was the star of some TV show, but she wasn't. See right there in the corner she had written "For my beautiful Galadriel, I will always love you." She wrote that to me, Gilly told herself, as she did each time she looked at it, only to me. She turned the frame over. It was still there the little piece of tape with the name on it. "Courtney Rutherford Hopkins."
Gilly smoothed her own straw colored hair with one hand as she turned, the picture over again. Even the teeth were gorgeous. Weren't girls supposed to look like their mothers? The word "mother" triggered something deep in her stomach. She knew the danger signal. Abruptly she shoved the picture under a T-shirt and banged the bureau drawer shut. This was not the time to start dissolving like hot JellO. She went downstairs.
"There you are, honey." Trotter turned away from the sink to greet her. "How about giving me a hand here with this salad?"
"Oh."
Score a point for Gilly.]]
"Well" Trotter shifted her weight to her left foot, keeping her eyes on the carrots she was scraping "William Ernest is in the living room watching Sesame Street. "
"My god, you must think I'm mental or something." "Mental?" Trotter moved to the kitchen table and started chopping the carrots on a tiny round board. "Dumb, stupid."
"Never crossed my mind."
"Men. why the hell you think I'm going to watch some retard show like that?"
"Listen here, Gilly Hopkins. One thing we better get straight right now tonight. I won't have you making fim of that boy."
"I wasn't making fun of that boy." What was the woman talking about? She hadn't mentioned the boy.
"Just 'cause someone isn't quite as smart as you are, don't give you no right to look down on them."    "Whom I looking down on?"
"You just said" the fat woman's voice was rising, and her knife was crashing down on the carrots with vengeance  "you just said William Ernest was" her voice dropped to a whisper "retarded."
"I did not. I don't even know the stupid kid. I never saw him in my life before today."
Trotter's eyes were stilt flashing, but her hand and voice were under control. "He's had a rough time of it in this world, but he's with Trotter now, and as long as the Lord leaves him in this house, ain't anybody on earth gonna hurt him. In any way: "
"Good god. All I was trying. to say"
"One more thing. In this house we don't take the Lord's name in vain."]]
Gilly threw both her hands up in mock surrender. "All right, all right. Forget it:" She started for the door. "Supper's 'bout ready. How about going next door and getting Mr. Randolph? He eats here nights."
The word No was just about to pop out of Gilly's mouth, but one look at Trotter's eyes, and she decided to save her fights for something more important. "Which house?"
"The gray one on the right." She waved her knife vaguely uphill. "Just knock on the door. If you do it good and loud, he'll hear you. Better take your jacket. Cold out."
Gilly ignored the last. She ran out the door, through the picket gate, and onto the porch next door, stomping and jumping to keep warm. Bam, bam, bam. It was too cold for October. Mr. Randolph's  house was smaller and more grubby looking even than Trotter's. She repeated her knock.
Suddenly the door swung inward, revealing a tiny shrunken man. Strange whitish eyes stared out of a wrinkled, brown face.
Gilly took one look and ran back to Trotter's kitchen as fast as she could go.
"What's the matter? Where's Mr. Randolph?" "I don't know. He's gone. He's not there."
"What d'you mean he's not there?" Trotter began wiping her hands on her apron and walking toward the door. "He's gone. Some weird little colored man with white eyes came to the door."
"Gilly! That was Mr. Randolph. He can't see a thing. You've got to go back and bring him by the hand, so he won't fall."
Gilly backed away. "I never touched one of those people in my life."]]
"Well, then, it's about time, ain't it?" Trotter snapped. "Of course, if you can't manage, I can always send William Ernest."
"I can manage. Don't you worry about me."
"You probably got Mr. Randolph all confused and upset by now."
"Well, you shoulda warned me."
"Warned you?" Trotter banged a spoon on the table. "I shoulda warned poor Mr. Randolph. You want me to send William Ernest?"
"I said I could manage. Good god!" At this, Trotter's spoon went up in the air like a flyswatter. "All right! I didn't say it. Hell, a person can't even talk around here."
"A smart person like you oughta be able to think of a few regular words to stick in amongst the cusses." The spoon went into the salad and stirred. "Well, hurry up, if you're going."
The little black man was still standing in the open doorway. "William Ernest?" he called gently as Gilly started up the steps.
"No," she said sharply: "Me."
"Oh." He smiled widely although his eyes did not seem to move. "You must be the new little girl." He stretched out his right hand. "Welcome to you, welcome."
Gilly carefully took the elbow instead of the hand. "Trotter said for me to get you for supper."
"Well, thank you, thank you." He reached behind, fumbling until he found the knob, and pulled the door shut. "Kind of chilly tonight, isn't it?"
"Yeah."]]
All she could think of was Miss Ellis. OK, so she hadn't been so great at the Nevinses, but she hadn't done anything to deserve this. A house run by a fat, fluff brained religious fanatic with a mentally retarded seven year old well, maybe he was and maybe he wasn't actually retarded, but chances were good the kid was running around with less than his full share of brains or why would Trotter make such a big deal of it? But she could've handled the two of them. It wasn't fair to throw in a blind black man who came to eat.
Or maybe Miss Ellis didn't know. Maybe Trotter kept this a secret.'
The sidewalk was uneven. Mr. Randolph's toe hit a high corner, and he lurched forward.
"Watch it!" Without thinking,  Gilly threw her arms around the thin shoulders and caught him before he fell. "Thank you, thank you." Gilly dropped her arms. She thought for a horrible moment that he was going to try to grab her hand, but he didn't.
Boy, Miss Ellis, are you ever going to be sorry you did this to me.
"Now Mrs. Trotter did tell me your name, but I'm ashamed to say I don't seem to recall it." He tapped his head with its short, curly gray hair. "I can keep all the luxuries up here, but none of the necessities."
"Gilly," she muttered. "I beg your pardon?" "Gilly Hopkins."
"Oh, yes." He was shuffling painfully up Trotter's front steps. Jeez. Why didn't he get a white cane or something? "I am most pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss]]
Gilly. I feel mighty dose to all Mrs. Trotter's children. Little William Ernest is like a grandson to me. So I feel sure ...
"
"Watch the door!" "Yes, Yes, I thank you."
"Is that you, Mr. Randolph?" came Trotter's voice from inside.
"Yes, indeed, Mrs. Trotter, with the sweetest little escort you'd ever hope to see."
Trotter appeared in the hallway with her hands on her hips. "How you doing in this cold weather?"
"Not my best, I'm afraid. This sweet little girl had to keep me from falling right down on my face."
"Did she now?"
See there, Trotter? I managed.
"I guess this old house is going to be a bit more lively now, eh, Mrs. Trotter?"
"Wouldn't be surprised," answered Trotter in a flat voice that Gilly couldn't read the meaning of.
The meal. proceeded without incident. Gilly was hungry but thought it better not to seem to enjoy her supper too much. William Ernest ate silently and steadily with only an occasional glance at Gilly. She could tell that the child was scared silly of her. It was about the only thing in the last two hours that had given. her any real satisfaction. Power over the boy was sure to be power over Trotter in the long run.
"I declare, Mrs. Trotter," said Mr.. Randolph, "every day I think to myself, tonight's supper couldn't be as delicious as last night's. But I tell you, this is the most delicious meal I have ever had the privilege of eating."
"Mr. Randolph, you could flatter the stripe off a pole cat.]]"
Mr. Randolph let out a giggling laugh. "It isn't flattery, I assure you, Mrs. Trotter. William Ernest and Miss Gilly will bear me out in this. I may be old, but I haven't lost my sense of taste, even if some folks maintain I've lost the other four."
They went on and on like that. Mr. Randolph flattering the fat woman, and the fat woman eating it up like hot fudge sundae with all the nuts.
What I should do, thought Gilly, as she lay that night in the narrow bed with her arms folded under her head, What I should do is write my mother. Courtney Rutherford Hopkins would probably sue county welfare if she knew what kind of place they'd forced her daughter to come to.
Miss Ellis (whose eyebrows always twitched when Gilly asked questions about Courtney) had once told her that Courtney was from Virginia. Everybody knew, didn't they, that families like Courtney's did not eat with colored people? Courtney Rutherford Hopkins was sure to, go into a rage, wasn't she, when she heard that news? Perhaps the self righteous Trotter would be put into jail for contributing to the delinquency of a minor. Miss Ellis would, of course, be fired. Yum!
She'll come to get me then, for sure, thought Gilly. Her mother wouldn't stand for her beautiful Galadriel to be in a dump like this for one single minute, once she knew. But how was she to know? Miss Ellis would never admit it. What kind of lies was the social worker telling Courtney to keep her from coming to fetch Gilly?
As she dropped off to sleep, Gilly promised herself for the millionth time that she would find out where Courtney Rutherford Hopkins was, write to her, and tell her to come and take her beautiful Galadriel home.]]
More Unpleasant Surprises
x the tiny mirror over the bureau Gilly noted with no little satisfaction that her hair was a wreck. Yesterday before the bubble gum got into it, it had looked as though it simply needed combing. Today it looked like a lot that had been partially bulldozed  an uprooted tree here, a half wall with a crumbling chimney there. It was magnificent. It would run Trotter wild. Gilly bounced down the stairs and into the kitchen.
She held her head very straight as she sat at the kitchen table and waited for the fireworks.
"I'll take you down to the school a little after nine, hear?" Trotter said.
Of course Gilly heard. She tilted her head a little in case Trotter couldn't see.
"If I take you down earlier," Trotter went on, "we'll just]]
have to sit and wait till they can take care of us. I'd as leave sit here at my own table with a cup of coffee, wouldn't you?" She put a bowl of steaming hot cereal down in front of Gilly.
Gilly nodded her head vigorously Yes.
William Ernest was staring at her, his glasses steamed up from the oatmeal. Gilly bared her teeth and shook her head violently No at him. The boy snuffled loudly and ducked his head.
"Need a tissue, William Ernest?" Trotter pulled one from her apron pocket and gently wiped his nose. "And here's a clean one for school, honey." Trotter leaned over and tucked a tissue into his pants pocket.
Gilly craned her neck over the table as though she were trying to see the contents of W.E. pocket. Her head was within a couple of feet of Trotter's eyes. The woman was sure to notice.
"William Ernest got promoted to the Orange reading group yesterday. Didn't you, William Ernest, honey?" The little boy nodded his head but kept his eyes on his bowl.
"You're gonna have to do some reading out loud and show Gilly how great you're coming along with your reading these days."
W.E. looked up for one split second with terror in his eyes. Trotter missed the look, but not Gilly, who smiled widely and shook her half bulldozed head emphatically.
"In Orange they use hardback books," Trotter was explaining. "It's a real big step to be Orange." She leaned over Gilly to put some toast on the table. "We really worked for this.,,
"So old W.E. getting a head, is he?"]]
Trotter gave her a puzzled look. "Yeah, he's doing just fine."
"Before you know it," Gilly heard herself saying loudly, "he'll be blowing his own nose and combing his own hair. " "He already does," said Trotter quietly. "Leastways most of the time." She sat down with a loud sigh at the table. "Pass me a piece of toast, will you, Gilly?"
Gilly picked up the plate, raised it to the height of her hair, and passed it across to Trotter at that level. "Thank you,, honey."
At eight thirty Trotter got William Ernest off to school. Gilly had long since finished her breakfast, but she sat at. the kitchen table, her head propped on her fists. From the doorway she could hear Old Mother Goose honking over her gosling. "OK, Big Orange, you show 'em down there today, hear?" Trotter said finally; and then the heavy door shut and she was heading back for the kitchen. As she got to the door, Gilly sat up straight and shook her head for all she was worth
"You got a tic, or something, honey?" "No."
"I would've thought you was too young.for the palsy," the huge woman murmured, sliding into her seat with the cup of coffee she'd promised herself earlier. "I see you got sneakers. That's good. You're supposed to have them for gym. Can you think of anything else you'll need for school?"
Gilly shook her head, but halfheartedly. She was beginning to feel like an over sharpened pencil.
"I think I'll go upstairs till it's time," she said. "Oh, while you're up there, honey"]]
"Yeah?" Gilly sprang to attention.
"Make the beds, will you? It does look messy to leave'em unmade all day, and I'm not much on running up and down the stairs."
Gilly banged the door to her room for all she was worth. She spit every obscenity she'd ever heard through her teeth, but it wasn't enough. That ignorant hippopotamus! That walrus faced imbecile! That that oh, the devil Trotter wouldn't even let a drop fall from her precious  William Ernest baby's nose, but she would let Gilly go to school a new school where she didn't know  anybody looking like a scarecrow. Miss Ellis would surely hear about this. Gilly slammed her fist into her pillow. There had to be a law against foster mothers who showed such gross favoritism.
Well, she would show that lard can a thing or two. She yanked open the left top  drawer, pulling out a broken comb, which she viciously jerked through the wilderness on her head, only to be defeated by a patch of bubble gum. She ran into the bathroom and rummaged through the medicine chest until she found a pair of nail scissors with which to chop out the offending hair. When despite her assault by comb and scissors a few strands refused to lie down meekly, she soaked them mercilessly into submission. She'd show the world. She'd show them who Galadriel Hopkins was she was not to be trifled with.
"I see they call you Gilly," said Mr. Evans, the principal. "I can't even pronounce the poor child's real name," said Trotter, chuckling in what she must believe was a friendly manner.]]

Subjective Criteria

Illustrations: No support

Dialog: Multiple speakers

Dialog: Broken dialogue

Dialog: Unlabeled Speaker

Vocabulary: Some difficult words

Language: Many descriptive words

Sentences: Multiple phrases

Text structure: Blend of written/oral

Inferences: Several Implications

Complexity: Several ideas - closely related

Concepts: Abstract/Complex Social

Features

Character traits

Topic

Challenges

Fears

Love

*Family & Friends

*Feelings, Behaviors

Low Frequency Words

abruptly	acquaintance	amongst	assault	assure
astray	bale	barracuda	bolster	bowels
brained	bulldozed	bureau	calmly	caseworker
cautious	comb	contents	contributing	cooperation
craned	curlicues	cursive	curtains	cushions
cusses	d'you	delicious	delinquency	deserve
despite	dissolving	dracula	drawer	drawers
dustless	elaborately	emphatically	ernest	fanatic
fault	favored	favoritism	fim	flattering
flattery	flinched	flowered	flyswatter	foster
galadriel	giggling	glance	glare	glossy
godzilla	goin	gonna	gorgeous	gosling
graying	gripes	gross	gruesome	guardian
guineas	halfheartedly	handled	hardback	hefting
height	hell	herbed	hesitated	housedress
ignorant	ignored	imbecile	immediately	improve
incident	inward	jeans	jeez	jutted
kneel	knob	laboriously	lacking	leastways
leave'em	level	lint	lively	lord's
lowering	lurched	luxuries	magnificent	maintain
mammoth	manage	maneuver	meantime	medicine
meekly	melvin	mentally	mentioned	mercilessly
millionth	minor	miz	mock	movement
murmured	muttered	necessities	neighborhood	newman
nonprofessional	noted	oatmeal	obligingly	obscenity
occasional	offending	opposite	oughta	painfully
palsy	pardon	partially	passenger	pasteboard
pause	penned	photograph	picket	potbelly
precious	prickles	privilege	proceeded	prodding
professional	promoted	propped	randolph	rearrange
recall	recent	refused	religious	repertory
resisted	response	retard	retarded	revealing
richmond	righteous	rimmed	rough	rummaged
rutherford	sake	salvage	satisfaction	scarecrow
scissors	scrambled	scuse	sesame	shoulda
shoved	shoving	shrunken	shuffling	sincere
sliding	smacked	smoothed	snuffled	social
soul	spotless	sprang	squat	steadily
stilt	stirred	straggly	strands	submission
sundae	supper's	surely	surrender	swept
swiped	tangle	terror	theme	there're
thompson	thoughtful	thumbnail	tilted	tissue
tonight's	towelette	treeless	trifled	trotter
trotter's	truly	twitched	uncombed	underwear
unfortunate	unmade	uphill	uplifted	upright
vaguely	vain	vengeance	viciously	vigorously
vision	walrus	warned	weird	welfare
whisper	whitish	worth	would've	woulda
wrinkled	y'all	yanked