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Johnny Blossom blinked his eyes and scarcely knew what to say, but suddenly had an idea. He would begin differently. “Yes,” said Johnny Blossom. “At the Canyon?” asked Mr. Whitney. “I don’t see how you could. It is a pretty dreary place, if you have to be there long.”.
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Conrad
The boys answered in the affirmative. The old man nodded his head. “Pretty good, pretty good. You sho’ surprised me. Only ones what I’ve seen come through before have been dead ones. Sit ’round and in a minute I’ll have something to eat for ye.” It must be grand to be so strong that one could, well, beat everybody—that is, of course, all the boys,—if one had a mind to do it. Not that he, Johnny Blossom, really wanted to fight everybody; only to have strength enough to do it, if it were necessary. And to be able to hold the heaviest things with your arm stretched out straight! On the day before Christmas, big, soft snowflakes drifted slowly down from a lowering gray sky. The snow melted as soon as it fell, and from the sea a raw, wet wind came whining in; but there might have been worse weather, and Johnny Blossom, at any rate, was well content. He was going out to distribute his presents today. It was so pleasant to take them himself to the different persons. 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:.
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