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“What’s the matter with your life?” he asked quickly. “I’d want nothing better. To be with the Reclamation Service and to have Mr. Whitney for a boss seems pretty good to me!”,

But a disappointment awaited them in the morning. The craft that had brought them this far was quite beyond repair. It would perhaps not have been impossible to patch it up if they had had the necessary tools, but, lacking them, the boat was a total wreck.,

Night having come, the Princess went to bed as usual, her little Fretillon lying at her feet, not even stirring one of his paws. Rosette slept soundly, but the wicked nurse kept awake, and went presently to fetch the boatman. She took him into the Princess's room, and together they lifted her up, feather bed, mattress, sheets, coverlet, and all, and threw them into the sea, the Princess all the while so fast asleep, that she never woke. But fortunately, her bed was made of Phœnix-feathers, which are extremely rare, and have the property of always floating on water; so that she was carried along in her bed as in a boat. The water, however, began gradually first to wet her feather bed, then her mattress, and Rosette began to feel uncomfortable, and turned from side to side, and then Fretillon woke up. He had a capital nose, and when he smelt the soles and cod-fish so near, he started barking at them, and this awoke all the other fish, who began swimming about. The bigger ones ran against the Princess's bed, which, not being attached to anything, span round and round like a whirligig. Rosette could not make out what was happening. "Is our boat having a dance on the water?" she said. "I am not accustomed to feeling so uneasy as I am to-night," and all the while Fretillon continued barking, and going on as if he was out of his mind. The wicked nurse and the boatman heard him from afar, and said: "There's that funny little beast drinking our healths with his mistress. Let us make haste to land," for they were now just opposite the town of the King of the Peacocks.,

“Don’t bother about the oars,” said Bob, his voice echoing from the walls of the passage. “It’s too dark for ’em. Try to get a hold on the roof.”

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No, it had not occurred to Johnny Blossom that it was anything to be particularly glad about.,

But a surprise awaited him when he pushed open the door of his room. Seated on the bed was Ted Hoyt, who showed signs of having anxiously awaited him.,

The conversation had taken place as they climbed the hill to the Upper Town. Now, Mr. Whitney went off in the direction of his cottage, and Bob to the office.,

It was a ticklish moment. They shot out of the white spray and were headed for the rocky wall. “Quick, Jerry!” yelled Bob. “Pull her ’round.”