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When the King of the Peacocks' dinner hour arrived, there was nothing for him either in the saucepan or in the larder; his attendants looked askance at one another, and the King was in a terrible rage. "It seems, then, that I am to have no dinner; but see that the spit is put before the fire, and let me have some good roast meat this evening." The evening came, and the Princess said to Fretillon, "Go to the best kitchen in the town and bring me a joint of good roast meat." Fretillon obeyed, and knowing no better kitchen than that of the King, he went softly in, while the cooks' backs were turned, took the meat, which was of the best kind, from the spit, and carried it back in his basket to the Princess. She sent him back without delay to the larder, and he carried off all the preserves and sweetmeats that had been prepared for the King. “Some presents will go over to your house this evening,” said Uncle Isaac when he said good-by. “I should say so,” said Bob. “But it must cost a fortune to construct all this. Do you know about how much?”.
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Cease your wild terrific sway! 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. “We can tackle the Labyrinth if it isn’t too far away.” Oh, dear! How embarrassing it was—perfectly horrid! And how they roared again as he came on to the wharf!.
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