“Weren’t you hurt?” asked Bob.,
Johnny Blossom’s room was a very tiny one, under the slope of the roof, but small as it was, he could never keep it in order. The rug before the bed was always in a heap; and papers, skates, bows and arrows, and boots and shoes were strewn over the floor. There was a little space on the table and the commode, but on the floor you could scarcely find a bare spot.,
A moment later Mr. Whitney was beside him, an expression on his face which the boy could not fathom. It was a stern look yet there was a twinkle in the kind eyes. His first words were ominous..
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