Johnny Blossom could think of nothing more to write about, though he stared long and hard at the walls. His examination report? No, he would not write about that, for there were some 9’s for conduct and some marks for lessons that were not as high as one might wish. No, there was not an atom more to write. So the letter was signed:,
Mother hugged him to her and kissed him. “But that was a horrible present, John,” she said, pointing to the whistle.,
“Sit here beside me,” said Uncle Isaac. “Thank you very much for this beautiful Christmas present.” The frame stood on a table near the bed..
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