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“But what is it?” “All right,” sang out Jerry. “But I wish we had a lantern.” “Are you going to plant it again this year?”.
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Conrad
Everything had been disagreeable all the afternoon, until by and by he happened to think of trying to dance a mazurka on his highest stilts. Doing that he had fortunately forgotten his troubles. Not until the bucket had reached the height of the cableway was he able to take any interest in looking about him. The second or so that had elapsed since he had taken passage on the concrete conveyor had been fully occupied in putting himself in a position where he could hold on and not be in danger of being tipped over the side. Worming himself around he found he could seat himself comfortably in the hook that held the bucket and clasp his arms around the great iron ball that hung just under the many sheaved pulley. At these words Julia revived, and Ferdinand, reproved by the generosity of the father, and conscious of his own inferiority, shrunk back. 'I have no words to thank you,' said he, 'or to entreat your pardon for the impetuosity of my conduct; your knowledge of my situation must plead my excuse.'—'It does,' replied the father, 'but we have no time to lose;—follow me.' Next it was the telegraph operator, Mr. Nilsen. “Well, I must say! If here isn’t the person every one is talking about—and as large as life!”.
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