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So, at least, the wise report—,Absolute silence again. If only the cuckoo in the clock would come out and call! But it would be almost a quarter of an hour before that would happen. Johnny Blossom racked his brain to think of something to talk about.,Again and again Johnny Blossom opened his hand and looked at the silver pieces. Suddenly, speaking aloud in his determination, he said: “I am going to give these to Tellef. It was an awful shame for me to fight him like that, even if he did hit me in the back.”,“The wood-cutter is right. It is balm,” said Uncle Isaac finally.,Was he to die, trapped like a rat? Was this the end of his adventure? It looked very much like it. But something would not let him give up. He would make one more attempt for his life and liberty.,“Don’t bother about the oars,” said Bob, his voice echoing from the walls of the passage. “It’s too dark for ’em. Try to get a hold on the roof.”,There was Mother at the door again.,“I hope so,” Bob answered. “Won’t you?”,Pile up the coals,,The last verse was repeated in loud chorus. The duke listened with astonishment! Such social merriment amid a scene of such savage wildness, appeared more like enchantment than reality. He would not have hesitated to pronounce this a party of banditti, had not the delicacy of expression preserved in the song appeared unattainable by men of their class.,“Here is my monthly report and ‘Goodwill of Luckton’ has come,” exclaimed Johnny.,Night-birds are we:.