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“Trouble below, Billy!” gasped Bob as he came to the shed that protected the operator from the rays of the sun. “Need the Big Boss. He’s over at the spillway. Shoot me over?”,

For fully four days Johnny Blossom did not show himself inside of Aunt Grenertsen’s green-painted garden fence; but on the fifth day he thought it would be interesting after all to see whether the apples still hung on the tree. It seemed an age since he had looked at them, and it would be disappointing enough if they had been gathered.,

Conversation may be divided into two classes—the familiar and the sentimental. It is the province of the familiar, to diffuse cheerfulness and ease—to open the heart of man to man, and to beam a temperate sunshine upon the mind.—Nature and art must conspire to render us susceptible of the charms, and to qualify us for the practice of the second class of conversation, here termed sentimental, and in which Madame de Menon particularly excelled. To good sense, lively feeling, and natural delicacy of taste, must be united an expansion of mind, and a refinement of thought, which is the result of high cultivation. To render this sort of conversation irresistibly attractive, a knowledge of the world is requisite, and that enchanting case, that elegance of manner, which is to be acquired only by frequenting the higher circles of polished life. In sentimental conversation, subjects interesting to the heart, and to the imagination, are brought forward; they are discussed in a kind of sportive way, with animation and refinement, and are never continued longer than politeness allows. Here fancy flourishes,—the sensibilities expand—and wit, guided by delicacy and embellished by taste—points to the heart.,

“Meantime, where’s Mr. Taylor? He’d help—”

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Johnny Blossom swung his cap, then suddenly remembering his whistle, took that out and blew it hard. Then he laughed heartily and blew it once more. All the black faces up at the railing laughed also. After this farewell the boat was rowed to the shore and Johnny Blossom was soon running up the street.,

“I think we’d better go back to camp. The shooting over there sounds as if our part of the job is over. Think so?”,

For a time all went well, but soon Jerry said in a whisper—somehow the dark made him whisper rather than speak aloud—“I can’t touch the roof any more, can you?”,

“Good day, John! Now this is very kind of you to come to me, away out here.”