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Bob continued to waste a few precious seconds in a vain endeavor to move his friend Billy, but kept his eye on the returning bucket. It came almost to Billy’s shed and then, in response to a sharp jerk on a lever, it dropped into the mixing shed of the concrete plant.,

“Rather an involved story,” thought Mother. But she said: “Well, now you must say your prayers and go to sleep.”,

A few moments later Johnny remarked, “The goat ought really to go to Grassy Island today.”,

It was the place where the dam was to be built—where already part of it was built. From the height from which they looked the network of cables and railroad tracks and rushing ant-like figures, seemed a confused jumble without a sense of direction. But as the car coasted down the well-made road—also constructed by the Government, Bob learned later—the jumble became clearer. The cables, extending from one side of the hill to the other, carried buckets which rushed incessantly to and fro. These were lowered and hoisted seemingly by chance. The puffing engines pulled cars of rock to the crusher and backed away for new loads. The swarming men now showed themselves as workers, the directing units, and their rushing about was merely carrying out their part of the great work.

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“It seems to me we’re going to get that trouble right now,” said Bob. “As soon as this narrows a little bit, if it doesn’t get deeper I bet we’ll have rapids with a vengeance.”,

The day which was to have devoted Julia to a cloister, was ushered in at the abbey with the usual ceremonies. The church was ornamented, and all the inhabitants of the monastery prepared to attend. The Padre Abate now exulted in the success of his scheme, and anticipated, in imagination, the rage and vexation of the marquis, when he should discover that his daughter was lost to him for ever.,

What a shame, what a shame that he should be the poorest rider of all! On the way back he whipped Bob so that the horse finally ran, puffing, coughing, and stumbling along.,

“Oh, a cabby driver and his wife. The old woman told me once she wished she’d left me on the doorstep where she found me. But I stuck it out with them, until I was about fourteen, I reckon, and then something happened. One day a man spoke to me on State Street and asked if I didn’t want to go out in the country. He made a wonderful picture of the road on which there were no houses, the haystacks under which one could sleep. I’d never been outside of the city and it sounded great to me. He said I could go along with him and he would show me all these wonders. It was springtime and the licking I’d had the night before still smarted, so I went.”