Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
See! in the darkened air their fiery course! JOHNNY BLOSSOM was entirely at a loss. Here it was the best part of the vacation and not a bit of fun going on. It rained nearly every day—such disgustingly long showers that if they did ever hold up, it was too sopping wet in the grass and everywhere to do anything. Besides the wind blew very hard, but that was rather pleasant, there was so much you could do when there was a good wind—fly kites, for instance. “Meantime, where’s Mr. Taylor? He’d help—”.
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
Start playing & winning instantly!I tried logging in using my phone number and I
was supposed to get a verification code text,but didn't
get it. I clicked resend a couple time, tried the "call
me instead" option twice but didn't get a call
either. the trouble shooting had no info on if the call
me instead fails.There was
Take your gameplay to the next level by harnessing the power to influence your dice rolls and outsmart your opponents.
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
“Thanks, Jerry,” Whitney said seriously. Bob happened to look around and missed Feather-in-the-Wind from the group. He had not gone but a few steps before a great idea come to him. Why couldn’t they try the Labyrinth Canyon stunt in the three weeks the Chief would be away? This idea lent him speed in his search for his companion. At last he found Jerry sitting in a tall chair watching some tourists play pool. He went over to the other boy and said, “Come on along outside for a minute, Jerry. I’ve got something to tell you.” 'Soon after my noviciation, I had the misfortune to lose my dear father. In the tranquillity of this monastery, however, in the soothing kindness of my companions, and in devotional exercises, my sorrows found relief, and the sting of grief was blunted. My repose was of short continuance. A circumstance occurred that renewed the misery, which, can now never quit me but in the grave, to which I look with no fearful apprehension, but as a refuge from calamity, trusting that the power who has seen good to afflict me, will pardon the imperfectness of my devotion, and the too frequent wandering of my thoughts to the object once so dear to me.' The currants in Aunt Grenertsen’s garden were nothing to speak of, either. Awfully sour, small pinheads! The raspberries were small, too, but at any rate, they were sweet..
298 people found this
review helpful