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Bess arrived at last. A gorgeous affair was her chariot, the foundation being Mr. Prettyman’s spring wagon. Bess, with some borrowings, Charley’s help, and her own quick invention, had made a very good imitation of a circus wagon. Charley, the Strong Man, held the reins over old Dom Pedro, the horse she loved, that had once been a racer. She had discovered some very real looking, jointed snakes that wriggled and curved in a manner startlingly serpentine; while tremendous boa constrictors, cut from old circus posters, were disposed about the cage in alarmingly lifelike positions. Dim religious lights from stained glass windows shone through the church and falling on the boy chilled him to the marrow. “They’ve stolen her, all right. I don’t know why, but I know who,—it’s the Ha’nt people!” Billy panted, coming out of the Lodge..
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Conrad
“What else did they do ’sides dancing, Betty?” questioned St. Elmo. “She’s at Vine Hill—miles away; we’ll beat her if we hurry.” His words were a bit breathless. It seemed to him that his voice made no sound; that May Nell never ran so slowly; that the travellers would surely not hear him, not stop. How could they hear in all the noise? “Alfred the Grate was a good king. He had a lot of trubel in his rane. The Danes had come to Ingland and peeple did not no how to read and rite. He bilt some skools and men called munks showed the peeple how to read and rite the Danes were very crool they killed a lot of men and Alfred the Grate had to run away and hide in a slew. One day a woman where he horded asked him to turn some pancakes and King Alfred the Grate forgot to turn the pancakes and they were burnt and the woman boxed his ears and would not bord him no more. Alfred the Grate beet the Danes.”.
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