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“Is that one of your acquaintances?” Johnny Blossom went storming through the rooms. My, oh, my! how little he seemed when he looked at himself in those enormous mirrors. Soon, however, he was walking on the railing of the veranda. What a veranda it was, with its massive stone pillars and broad steps of white marble leading to the grounds! Still, Johnny Blossom was not altogether sure that the veranda at home wasn’t just as pretty; at any rate, it was pleasanter, that was certain. He went in search of little Day, and found him with a tiny foil in his hand, fencing with a great monkey, though he was only three years old. He carried the child to his wife, who hid him where she had hidden his sister, and then cooked a very tender little kid in the place of little Day, which the ogress thought wonderfully good. All had gone well enough so far, but one evening this wicked Queen said to the head cook, "I should like to eat the Queen with the same sauce that I had with the children.".
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kez_ h (Kez_h)
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Conrad
The ogre had seven daughters, who were still young children. These little ogresses had the most beautiful complexions, as they lived on fresh meat like their father; but they had very small round grey eyes, hooked noses, and very large mouths, with long teeth, exceedingly sharp, and wide apart. They were not very wicked as yet; but they promised to become so, for they already began to bite little children, that they might suck their blood. They had been sent to bed early, and were all seven in a large bed, each wearing a crown of gold on her head. In the same room was another bed of the same size. It was in this bed that the ogre's wife put the seven little boys to sleep, after which she went to bed herself. Here his steps lingered a little, but he walked on nevertheless. Before there was time to figure out who it was that was coming, the hoofbeats and jangling of accouterments foretold the approach of the troopers. A moment later the soldiers trotted down the street under the electric lights that had been turned on when the trouble started. In their midst were a number of sullen looking Mexicans, evidently prisoners. Bob was overcome with astonishment. Not for a minute had he thought that the episode of last night would have brought on him more than the passing enmity of the Mexicans, but he realized that the Apache probably knew what he was about. Then it came to him that if there was bad blood between the Indians and Mexicans, in all probability Feather-in-the-Wind would know if there was any trouble brewing amongst the Mexicans themselves..
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