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“Why, John dear, aren’t you eating anything?” asked Mother that noon.,

Madame ceased to speak, and Emilia and Julia wept to the memory of the mother, whose misfortunes this story recorded. The sufferings of madame, together with her former friendship for the late marchioness, endeared her to her pupils, who from this period endeavoured by every kind and delicate attention to obliterate the traces of her sorrows. Madame was sensible of this tenderness, and it was productive in some degree of the effect desired. But a subject soon after occurred, which drew off their minds from the consideration of their mother's fate to a subject more wonderful and equally interesting.,

Then before the conversation went further the foreman came out the door. Bob noticed for the first time how powerful was the man’s build. He was tall and rangy, yet he seemed to radiate power.,

[188]Bob instinctively liked the man who was showing him what had been done to reclaim the desert. By the time they got back to the house they had become good friends and the man had asked the boy to come up and visit the ranch again.

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Just then Father grabbed John by the shoulder. Ugh! it was horrid when Father took hold that way, for it usually meant a whipping.,

As far as the dam was concerned and the work going on there, things were quiet for the next day or two. But the situation between the United States and Mexico seemed to be growing more and more tense. From the border came rumors of dissatisfaction caused by the presence of American troops on patrol duty and the deportation of Mexicans from the United States back into their country. As these reports multiplied they furnished a topic of discussion for all. The American element feared especially the effects any serious clash might have on the work at the dam and openly discussed the possibility that an attack of some sort might be made on the work itself.,

While the tiny, timid child,

'Soon after my noviciation, I had the misfortune to lose my dear father. In the tranquillity of this monastery, however, in the soothing kindness of my companions, and in devotional exercises, my sorrows found relief, and the sting of grief was blunted. My repose was of short continuance. A circumstance occurred that renewed the misery, which, can now never quit me but in the grave, to which I look with no fearful apprehension, but as a refuge from calamity, trusting that the power who has seen good to afflict me, will pardon the imperfectness of my devotion, and the too frequent wandering of my thoughts to the object once so dear to me.'