sitting on the pavement crying his eyes out. 'What's the matter?'
she
asked. 'It's my birthday!' he hollered. 'And I had a
bicycle and a
new tracksuit and this afternoon there's to be a party
with crisps and
jelly and a birthday cake and a disco afterwards. .
.' and he had to
stop talking because he was crying so hard.
'But that's lovely,' said the old lady. 'Why are you crying?'
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