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“Mr. Whitney? Oh, you mean ‘Whiskers,’ who put the engineering bug into Bob’s head, last year. We found him up the river at the cave. Would you like to go up there?”,

Bob—that was the horse’s name—knew Johnny whenever he went into the stable; there was no doubt about that, for the little horse would turn around in his stall and whinny at the sound of the boy’s step or voice. Of course Johnny always had sugar for him and brushed his pretty coat for him every day—dear, cunning little Bob!,

“Oh, we were fighting.”,

It was some Englishmen from the big coal steamer, and they were rowing straight toward the buoy, talking fast. Pshaw! how stupid it is when people talk English. Without waiting to say, “By your leave,” they took Johnny Blossom from the buoy, put him into their boat, and rowed directly to the steamship. One of the sailors scooped up some salt water in his hand and splashed it over Johnny Blossom’s tear streaked face and laughed. Then Johnny laughed, too.

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"Does she live far from here?" asked the Wolf.,

“God will never, never forsake thee,” read Jeremias as his crooked old finger pointed along the slanting line. “There is balm in those words, Johnny Blossom,” he said slowly.,

“Know anything else?” demanded the Chief as the engine rocked crazily on the narrow gauge track, and when Bob shook his head, asked, “How did you get over?”,

Having ceased to sing, her fingers wandered over the lute in melancholy symphony, and for some moments she remained lost in the sweet sensations which the music and the scenery had inspired. She was awakened from her reverie, by a sigh that stole from among the trees, and directing her eyes whence it came, beheld—Hippolitus! A thousand sweet and mingled emotions pressed upon her heart, yet she scarcely dared to trust the evidence of sight. He advanced, and throwing himself at her feet: 'Suffer me,' said he, in a tremulous voice, 'to disclose to you the sentiments which you have inspired, and to offer you the effusions of a heart filled only with love and admiration.' 'Rise, my lord,' said Julia, moving from her seat with an air of dignity, 'that attitude is neither becoming you to use, or me to suffer. The evening is closing, and Ferdinand will be impatient to see you.'