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“I found these apples out in the garden.” 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. The duke quitted the mansion, re-animated by the cheerfulness of morn, and pursued his journey. He could gain no intelligence of the fugitives. About noon he found himself in a beautiful romantic country; and having reached the summit of some wild cliffs, he rested, to view the picturesque imagery of the scene below. A shadowy sequestered dell appeared buried deep among the rocks, and in the bottom was seen a lake, whose clear bosom reflected the impending cliffs, and the beautiful luxuriance of the overhanging shades..
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Coming back from the job one night, he saw a strange yet familiar figure sitting on the porch of the Quarter-house. When he got near enough to see he started on the run towards the building. “Be off with yourself, boy!” he would always say if Johnny Blossom but put his nose in at the stable door. Where the precious rod should be put was a momentous question. Unfortunately it was too long to be accommodated in his own room, where he could guard it best. Johnny Blossom made no answer to this remark, but got up quickly from his chair by the door and went over to the window where Aunt Grenertsen sat..
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