Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
There was once a widow who had two daughters. The elder was so like her mother in temper and face, that to have seen the one was to have seen the other. They were both so disagreeable and proud, that it was impossible to live with them. The younger, who was the exact portrait of her father in her kindly and polite ways, was also as beautiful a girl as one could see. As we are naturally fond of those who resemble us, the mother doted on her elder daughter, while for the younger she had a most violent aversion, and made her take her meals in the kitchen and work hard all day. Among other things that she was obliged to do, this poor child was forced to go twice a day to fetch water from a place a mile or more from the house, and carry back a large jug filled to the brim. As she was standing one day by this spring, a poor woman came up to her, and asked the girl to give her some water to drink. “You bet we found a place,” said Jerry. “The dam is already half built by nature. Besides, I feel sure a road can be made down from the top of the canyon.” “This is Jerry King, Bob,” said Whitney. “Another member of my corps. Shake hands with Bob Hazard, Jerry. We will all be together this summer.”.
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
Night is creeping up over the land. Already in the heavens the pale crescent moon just born rides silently,—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
"Nolly, you have no romance in your nature," says Nicholas, severely.
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
Johnny Blossom was glad enough to get out into the garden with Tellef again. The heap of apples under the gooseberry bushes was divided with great exactness. Aunt Grenertsen could not see over there from her window. With confidence that such a child will be a good story-book friend for our children, and a favorite with them as he is among his little compatriots, I send Johnny Blossom forth to meet his welcome. CHAPTER XIII The Birthday Party “Why don’t they shoot?” he thought. Hardly had the thought flashed through his brain when a bullet whistled by him. Then came another and another..
298 people found this
review helpful