Every one looked at him as he stood beside the Admiral—such a little boy, with comical, freckled nose and smooth, brown hair. He looked up at his big, stalwart uncle who was reading about him, Johnny Blossom!,
Through the still air I mark each solemn pause,,
Johnny Blossom put his hands in his pockets and whistled, “Yes, we love our grand old Norway,” loudly and shrilly..
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