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“Heat lightning, I guess,” returned the other, but before the words were out of his mouth the same phenomenon occurred and this time he saw it.,
“Who are they and why should they be worried by what happens here?” Bob wanted to know.,
My, oh, my! Just look at all the apples! There must be fully a half bushel—a good many for such a little old tree.,
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But an object seriously interesting now obtained that regard, which those of mere amusement failed to attract. Her favorite nun, for whom her love and esteem daily increased, seemed declining under the pressure of a secret grief. Julia was deeply affected with her situation, and though she was not empowered to administer consolation to her sorrows, she endeavoured to mitigate the sufferings of illness. She nursed her with unremitting care, and seemed to seize with avidity the temporary opportunity of escaping from herself. The nun appeared perfectly reconciled to her fate, and exhibited during her illness so much sweetness, patience, and resignation as affected all around her with pity and love. Her angelic mildness, and steady fortitude characterized the beatification of a saint, rather than the death of a mortal. Julia watched every turn of her disorder with the utmost solicitude, and her care was at length rewarded by the amendment of Cornelia. Her health gradually improved, and she attributed this circumstance to the assiduity and tenderness of her young friend, to whom her heart now expanded in warm and unreserved affection. At length Julia ventured to solicit what she had so long and so earnestly wished for, and Cornelia unfolded the history of her sorrows.,
“Sell your fishing rod? Indeed, you must not think of such a thing.”,
All the suspicions of Jerry’s attitude that he had fought down, came back in a rush and were not lessened when he saw by the signs of greeting displayed by Miguel, that Jerry was the person he expected to see.,
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“You see, son, I’ll lose you again right after we get home.”
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Julia passed the remainder of the day in her closet with Emilia. Night returned, but brought her no peace. She sat long after the departure of Emilia; and to beguile recollection, she selected a favorite author, endeavouring to revive those sensations his page had once excited. She opened to a passage, the tender sorrow of which was applicable to her own situation, and her tears flowed wean. Her grief was soon suspended by apprehension. Hitherto a deadly silence had reigned through the castle, interrupted only by the wind, whose low sound crept at intervals through the galleries. She now thought she heard a footstep near her door, but presently all was still, for she believed she had been deceived by the wind. The succeeding moment, however, convinced her of her error, for she distinguished the low whisperings of some persons in the gallery. Her spirits, already weakened by sorrow, deserted her: she was seized with an universal terror, and presently afterwards a low voice called her from without, and the door was opened by Ferdinand.
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Jerry, however, was not so pessimistic. “Oh, I’m not beaten yet. I think I’ve got a scheme that’ll work, although it means we won’t be dry again until we get out of the canyon.”
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>“But, Mr. Whitney,” Bob put in, “if irrigation was such a success, why weren’t more canals constructed before the Government took hold of the job?”
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