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Taking up the hapless heather, she throws it on the ground, and, in a fit of childish spleen, lays her foot upon it and tramples it out of all recognition. Yet, even as she does so, the tears gather in her eyes, and, resting there unshed, transfigure her into a lovely picture that might well be termed "Beauty in Distress." For this faded flower she grieves, as though it were, indeed, a living thing that she has lost.,Two people, a man and a woman, are standing together some yards from the cabin, whispering and gesticulating violently, as is "their nature to.",Billy and Maurice, taking the short cut to the Wilson farm across the rain-drenched fields next morning, were planning the day's programme.,“Cut it out, kid,” said Jerry. Evidently Bob’s tone of determination had impressed him. Also the taunt about cold feet stung him. “I just wanted to make sure you wanted to go, that’s all. You’re taking a chance of never going back East again.”,But Patricia was impatiently deaf. "Why doesn't he get on?" she whispered testily. "We know all about the conditions of the prize. What we want to know is—oh, Elinor, I'm horribly disappointed. I was afraid Doris Leighton would get it, but you ought to have had Honorable Mention. Griffin's isn't half so good as yours; she said so herself. Can you see what their canvases are like? I'm just so that the light glares on them for me. What's that he's saying now? He's talking about your study.",“Captain Jinks of the horse marine,,“Oh, that would only frighten them if they heard us,” answered Johnny Blossom.,"He's down to the far medder, watchin' the gap, Maurice. Don't you go near him.","Kawak!" said Croaker, and jumping to the ground he started away, head twisted backward toward the boy and girl, coaxing sounds pouring from his half open beak.,“He’s been pushin’ up the daisies fer thirty years, I ain’t goin’ to warble to please no tombstun.” Moses swung a ponderous foot to give emphasis to his decision.,“I don’t know.”,He was just sick and tired of seeing those apples in that good-for-nothing garden. Good-for-nothing it certainly was, and very, very old. There was only one apple tree besides the one Johnny was so interested in, but its fruit could scarcely be called apples at all. He would call them croquet balls—such hard green things as they were—hard as rocks. Of course if any of them were on the ground, he bit into them. In fact, he had eaten a good many of them first and last, but they were horrid things, anyway..