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The Sheriff smiled at the note of command in the boy’s incoherence. “Not on your life, sonny,” and his voice softened; “we’ve got to have you in our business. Help him along,” he said to one of the deputies, as they came a moment later to where the path broadened; while he walked behind covering the panting prisoners.,Beauty, according to Ovid, is "a favor bestowed by the gods;" Theophrastus says it is "a silent cheat;" and Shakspeare tells us it,By her wise godmother—her truest glory.,A subdued murmur of assent ran through the room. Yes, indeed. Of course they all knew Johnny Blossom.,But while remembering that we shall be none the worse tomorrow for having been happy today, we are not permitted to forget entirely the Blue-devil Sprite that awaits the dawn. The play-spell is over; the lights are out in Vanity Fair; and here in Mr. Dulac's drawing is the leader of our Christmas Chorus as he shuts up the box and the puppets—"for our play is played out.",Mrs. Wopp’s voice, a dramatic outburst before which almost any cloud would have quailed, filled the bedroom. Betty turned to Nell Gordon, “I hope all yer clouds’ll hev silver linin’s, Miss Gordon,” she smiled.,Once on the impromptu platform, Patricia's embarrassment dropped from her, and she smiled a ready acknowledgment to the shouts that demanded a dozen different songs at once.,Hardly were they over the threshhold, before a short, stocky, middle-aged man came up to them. He rushed up to Whitney with outstretched hands and said, “I certainly am glad to see you, Whitney. Ted Adams has been gone two weeks and I have been expecting you almost any day. I couldn’t get down to meet you at the station, as they needed me over at the spillway. Little matter of extra shoring. It’s all right now.”,"With the greatest pleasure. What should it be?" As Miss Acton loved "Sally in our Alley," he would be happy to sing it.,As she spoke she raised her eyes, which beamed with truth and meek assurance to heaven; and the fine devotional suffusion of her countenance seemed to characterize the beauty of an inspired saint.,"Place it on the table," says Mona, who, though rich in presence of mind, has yet all a woman's wholesome horror of anything that may go off.,So, as there was no other key, Patricia put her finger to the bell on the lintel and kept it there till the knob rattled and the door was flung open wide. Judith was standing in the middle of the big, comfortable studio and her face was flushed, but not one word did she say in explanation of her singular behavior..
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