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Johnny Blossom and Eric, the pilot’s son, lay on the wharf with their heads stretched out over the edge, gazing down into the water. “Shall we fish for crabs?” asked Eric. Of course Johnny thought this was just the thing to do. Eric took a long string from his pocket and tied a stone at the end. “And we must hope,” continued the Admiral, “that this boy will fulfil all the expectations that are centered in him”— "If I must die," she replied, looking at him with streaming eyes, "give me a little time to say my prayers.".
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Bob hustled off on his errand and found the place the Chief had designated. A few blows with a stone and he had loosened the gate sufficiently to let a big stream of water flow out. And song and laughter reign. “I should say not,” returned Jerry. “The last twelve hours ought to last you for the rest of your life!” “I wish we were too,” agreed Bob, warming up to Jerry’s unexpected long speech. “Isn’t there anything exciting we can do while waiting for Mr. Whitney?”.
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