Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
There was something else he wished to ask, but he scarcely liked to—perhaps it was silly. Well, he could ask Mother about it, though he wouldn’t ask any one else in the whole world. The old people strayed through the house upstairs and down. They looked at everything, felt of everything, exclaimed over everything; they ate, and put into their pockets, and ate again. Next he went to the little crippled boy who had such big, mournful eyes..
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
"It is an early hour to be astir," he says, awkwardly; then, finding she makes no response, he goes on, still more awkwardly. "Can you tell me if this path will lead me to the road for Plumston?"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
"No, no," said Scarface, "we must not go there. Those are terrible birds; they will kill us."
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
As far as the eye could reach, the great chasm extended. In it rose pinnacles, spires and mountain ranges, alternating with deep valleys and gulches. At the very bottom wound a tiny thread of silver, the Colorado River, for whose passage nature had undertaken such a gigantic task and, in its accomplishment, had created such beauty. Again Jerry hesitated and Bob realized that a struggle was going on within him. Bob got up early in order to see the Canyon at sunrise the morning after Steve Whitney went away, but found that in comparison to the sunset it was tame. Yet so inspiring was it that he was glad he had taken the trouble. The panorama spread before his eyes was one of which no other country could boast. Bob had seen pictures of it, had read about it, and had been taught about it from his geography, but nothing that he had read or heard or learned had given him even a faint idea of the glory of the thing as it actually was, no matter what time of the day it was seen. “Yes, we love our grand old Norway!” This time he whistled almost the whole tune in his loud, shrill whistle; then he took to his heels and was soon at the big gate that led into the Kingthorpe grounds..
298 people found this
review helpful