Johnny Blossom hastened to get Mother’s sharpest scissors—the big shiny ones—for he intended to cut some long strips of stout cloth to tie the goat’s legs with. Johnny cut and cut. Suddenly the big blades slipped, caught Johnny’s little finger, and before he knew it, had cut the tip of it clean off! It hurt awfully—oh, well—not so terribly after all; but my, oh, my! how it bled! Johnny Blossom bound his not over-clean handkerchief around it, but still the blood came. Now it was all over his trousers. Perhaps he had better hide until it stopped.,
“Hurray!” called Bob, who was in the lead. “There she is.”,
There was once a King who for many years had been engaged in a war with his neighbours; a great number of battles had been fought, and at last the enemy laid siege to his capital. The King, fearing for the safety of the Queen, begged her to retire to a fortified castle, which he himself had never visited but once. The Queen endeavoured, with many prayers and tears, to persuade him to allow her to remain beside him and to share his fate, and it was with loud cries of grief that she was put into her chariot by the King to be driven away. He ordered his guards, however, to accompany her, and promised to steal away when possible to visit her. He tried to comfort her with this hope, although he knew that there was little chance of fulfilling it, for the castle stood a long distance off, surrounded by a thick forest, and only those who were well acquainted with the roads could possibly find their way to it..
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