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The picture was tender and mellow with colour: the springing lights of the early growths of the young year, the venerable face of the cliff as it swept from the slope of down where the windmill was to the beach, the slow motion of violet shadows over green distances;[Pg 12] and the impression of placid provincial life was heightened by the calm in the air which was scarcely vexed by the remote silver ringing of a chapel bell in High Street, Old Harbour Town. Billy's eyes strayed to those reels and he sighed to think that the washing and retarring of the nets was just another sign that the glad summer holidays would soon be over and the drab days of fall—and school—would soon be there. A low-flying flock of black ducks passed over his head in flight from the lake's bosom where they had rested through the day to the marsh feeding grounds across the point, and the shadow passed from the boy's face. "That's Croaker," laughed Erie. "Billy won't be far behind him. I had better go out and explain things, Frank.".
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kez_ h (Kez_h)
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🌟 Embark on a Mystical Voyage with magic journey demo! Explore enchanted realms and discover the magic of ancient Indian folklore in our spiritual odyssey showcase.I tried logging in using my phone number and I
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Conrad
Each spring the farmers attended the fishermen's annual bee of pile-driving, which meant the placing of the stakes for the pound nets—a dangerous and thankless task. Wet, weary and hungry, they would return to their homes at night with considerable more faith in the reward that comes of helping one's fellow-men than in the promise of the fishermen to keep them supplied, gratis, with all the fresh fish they needed during the season. "Afraid, madam!" Mr Lawrence reflected as though mentally gauging depth of hold and breadth of beam, and answered, "I think when flush she should hold six hundred tons." Caleb turned quickly towards a pile of goods, behind which an audible titter had sounded..
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