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THAT apple tree of Aunt Grenertsen’s was too tantalizing! Big, beautiful apples hung there day after day, and nobody ever seemed to think of such a thing as taking one off. Aunt Grenertsen might, for instance, so easily say to old Katrina, her housemaid: “Shake down an apple or two for Johnny Blossom”; but no indeed! Far from it. Never in the world had she suggested anything of the kind, although he had been in there every single day since the apples had begun to turn. She desired to retire for a time to some obscure convent, there to await the issue of the event, which at present involved her in perplexity and sorrow. Pooh! Far from it. He wasn’t the least bit pale..
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Conrad
“But it is a terrible thing. Carlstrom says that I’ve ruined Bob riding him so hard and that Bob must be”— “Let him shoot!” was the answer. The tunnel was absolutely straight and could not have been carved more evenly through the mountain by the machinery of man. So swift was the current that the boat had had no choice but to go in a straight line, and so wide was the tunnel that there was slim chance of interference with its walls. The boys were so thankful that they were approaching the end of the cavern and its darkness that neither thought of picking up the oars which were still dangling idly alongside the boat. They sat as if fascinated, watching the opening grow larger and larger. “Mother dear, don’t you think that Bob will surely go to heaven when he dies?”.
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