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“I want to say thank you, sir, for such a day as this. I’m only a poor man, but I can say this much, Johnny Blossom can do many a good turn”— “It isn’t pills, it isn’t pills!” exclaimed Johnny Blossom, hopping about on one foot with joy, because Aunt Grenertsen would be so pleased when she saw what it was. “Come right in, my boy.”.
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Conrad
“Yes,” said the other. “But it would mean tunneling through a mountain to get the water out after the dam was built. That is nothing for the Service if only we could get a road down into the canyon. Need it to get machinery and materials down to the dam site. Nobody’s ever gone through the canyon alive, so no one knows whether a road is practical or not. Lots have started. I’ve sort of a hankering to try it.” “If I remember the figures exactly, it will be two hundred and twenty-five feet from the foundation to the top—almost as tall as the Flatiron Building in New York. It will be nearly twelve hundred feet from bank to bank across the top.” Poor Uncle Isaac! He was sick now again—worse, in fact. He had heart disease, Mother said. Jeremias the wood-cutter also talked of a pain in his heart, but since he had begun to rub himself all over with kerosene, he had become much better. It smelled dreadfully in Jeremias’s little hut, but he was better. Johnny Blossom would certainly write to Uncle Isaac and tell him that all he had to do to cure himself of the pain was to rub himself with kerosene. “But how did you get it?”.
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