Just as Bob was about to give up hope, for his fingers told him that the last pile of threads was about all gone, a sliver of flame ran up the stick he held in his left hand. It went out but a second later another one came and stayed!,
“That’s great! I sure hope he does. I’ll be back all right—that is, if you’ll have a place for me,” Bob finished, speaking to Mr. Whitney who had come up to the group.,
“Far out against the sky,” repeated Grandmother, staring with her sightless eyes. Then she sat down to rest, with her hands folded under her apron and her face still turned seaward, while Tellef and Johnny Blossom played about in the heather..
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