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“Well, you are early enough I hope. I want to say this much, Johnny Blossom, that I won’t have it on my conscience that you should eat any half-rotten apples—and there are usually a good many half-rotten of this kind—but those that are cracked or bruised you may have, for they won’t keep anyway.” Feather-in-the-Wind! Perhaps the Indian would miss him and sound the alarm? Besides, Bob had asked him to look out for trouble with the Mexicans and perhaps, just perhaps, he might tell Mr. Whitney. One hot noontide he and Eric lay on the wharf in the baking sunshine. It was not Pilot Taraldsen’s wharf near the house, but the old wharf beyond the woods..
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Conrad
“You’ve—you’ve fixed it for me to go there?” said Bob, realizing that by letting him go to that particular institution, where only engineering was taught, his father had given up all hope of his ever being a lawyer. “That’s bully of you, Dad!” “You won’t have to do that,” said Mr. Hazard with a smile. “Don’t worry,” the engineer assured him; “there will be plenty of work. I have just finished a project in Colorado and am waiting for further orders. I told you to meet me here because I wanted you to see the greatest natural wonder we have in the United States, the Grand Canyon, and I am going to work you so hard later on that you won’t have another chance to get here before you go back to college. And I want your first sight of it to be at sunset. Then it is most wonderful.” At length they reached the house where the candle was shining, not without many alarms, for often they lost sight of it altogether, and always when they went down into the hollows. They knocked loudly at the door, and a good woman came to open it. She asked them what they wanted. Little Thumbling told her they were poor children who had lost their way in the forest, and who begged a night's lodgings for charity's sake. The woman, seeing they were all so pretty, began to weep, and said to them, "Alas! my poor children, to what a place have you come! Know you not that this is the house of an ogre who eats little children?" "Alas!" replied Little Thumbling, who trembled from head to foot, as indeed did all his brothers, "what shall we do? We shall certainly be all eaten up by the wolves to-night, if you do not give us shelter, and, in that case, we would rather be eaten by the ogre; perhaps he may have pity upon us, if you are kind enough to ask him." The ogre's wife, who thought that she might be able to hide them from her husband till the next morning, let the children come in, and led them where they could warm themselves by a good fire, for there was a whole sheep on the spit, roasting for the ogre's supper..
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