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Mother began to cry again, and there came a lump in Johnny Blossom’s throat. No, he would not cry. Big boys ought never to cry.,At length arrived a Prince, so rich and powerful, so clever and so handsome, that she could not help listening willingly to his addresses. Her father, having perceived this, told her that he left her at perfect liberty to choose a husband for herself, and that she had only to make known her decision. As the more intelligence we possess, the more difficulty we find in making up our mind on such a matter as this, she begged her father, after having thanked him, to allow her time to think about it.,She started early in the morning, mounted on her little white mule, that was shod with gold, and accompanied by two of her maids of honour, who each rode a pretty horse. When they were near the wood they dismounted out of respect, and made their way to the tree where the hermit lived. He did not much care for the visits of women, but when he saw that it was the Queen approaching, he said, "Welcome! what would you ask of me?" She related to him what the fairies had said about Rosette, and asked him to advise her what to do. He told her that the Princess must be shut up in a tower, and not be allowed to leave it as long as she lived. The Queen thanked him, and returned and told everything to the King. The King immediately gave orders for a large tower to be built as quickly as possible. In it he placed his daughter, but that she might not feel lonely and depressed, he, and the Queen, and her two brothers, went to see her every day. The elder of these was called the big Prince, and the younger, the little Prince. They loved their sister passionately, for she was the most beautiful and graceful Princess ever seen, and the least glance of hers was worth more than a hundred gold pieces. When she was fifteen years old, the big Prince said to the King, "Father, my sister is old enough to be married; shall we not soon have a wedding?" The little Prince said the same to the Queen, but their Majesties laughed and changed the subject, and made no answer about the marriage.,“We’ll bring it right down to the boat now,” said John. And the goat that had lived all summer in the yard back of the barn was forthwith untied and taken out the back way down to Jensen’s Wharf.,“Oh, shut up!” was Jerry’s ungrateful retort. Since he had opened his eyes he had endeavored to find just that thing—with no success. But he would not own up until he had had another long look. But after a while he had to give in.,But it was in similar canyons, smaller, perhaps, that the Service built its dams. Down the sides of cliffs like these, which even the mountain goats had difficulty in mastering, the Service had to build its roads. It was to such desolate beauty that the Service brought progress and the service of mankind. In his imagination Bob saw the smooth face of an enormous dam filling even this great canyon,—generating enough horse power to run all the factories of the West, and collecting enough water to irrigate all the homes that could be made on the great American desert. Right then nothing was too stupendous a task for final achievement. His whole being thrilled with the thought that he was to be a part of the Service, that he was to have a hand in the great work that it was doing and would do.,At first, however, it was a little ceremonious. Johnny Blossom had to stand beside Father and Mother on the great marble steps and welcome the guests. He was rather sober and felt a little shy. Father and Mother, too, although they smiled, were somewhat serious. Mother’s eyes even had tears in them.,Notwithstanding, sometimes he,“Haven’t you anything to say for yourself?” snapped the man. “Is Bob right?”,There! he had it! Not that he was altogether sure of its being a text exactly, but it was so beautiful! Then Johnny Blossom, with his head on one side, his little snub nose almost touching the paper, wrote, with extraordinary slowness, because the writing was to be so very, very good:,“Can’t get him—gone to Las Cruces. Yes, hello, Mixer? The Chief? Gone? Yes, yes! Where? North end spillway! Right! ’Bye.” She pulled out the plug and said to Jerry, “Started for spillway ten minutes ago. No phone there yet. Take fifteen minutes get messenger there—can you wait?”,But thoughts such as these occurred to him less and less as the distance between him and the East grew greater. By the time he dropped off the train at Williams, Arizona, where he changed to the day coach that would take him to the Grand Canyon, his mind was so full of the future that there was no room for the things he had left behind him..