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The night grew stormy. The hollow winds swept over the mountains, and blew bleak and cold around; the clouds were driven swiftly over the face of the moon, and the duke and his people were frequently involved in total darkness. They had travelled on silently and dejectedly for some hours, and were bewildered in the wilds, when they suddenly heard the bell of a monastery chiming for midnight-prayer. Their hearts revived at the sound, which they endeavoured to follow, but they had not gone far, when the gale wafted it away, and they were abandoned to the uncertain guide of their own conjectures. Bim! Boom! How the great bells chimed! “Golly!” almost whispered Bob, awed by the strangeness of the scene. “I reckon this is why no one came through. There doesn’t seem to be any way to get out—”.
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kez_ h (Kez_h)
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Conrad
“Sure do,” was the answer. “’Specially safe as I elect myself a c’mittee o’ one to stick here on guard.” “What is it?” demanded the boy. “I’m sorry that I inflicted it all upon you, Bob. I was sort of acting the cry baby, wasn’t I?” 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..
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