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“No need to bother about the Greasers in camp. They won’t make any trouble.” It was the first word spoken by their captive.,

That afternoon Johnny Blossom sat crouched on the stone steps leading to the road. The fishing rod lay beside him, but he did not feel like going fishing. He sat with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, thinking of Uncle Isaac. It might easily be that just now, this minute, Uncle Isaac stood outside that great golden gate—the gate that leads into Paradise—and knocked on it. To think that God can hear a man’s little knock. Why, that gate is surely as big as—yes, as the tallest pine tree over there, and all of gleaming gold; and God looks and throws the gate wide open of course, for he sees it is Uncle Isaac. And so Uncle Isaac goes into the Kingdom of Heaven.,

The place was in great confusion. The shooting, first of the Indians and then of the soldiers, had thoroughly waked up the town. The center of the activity seemed to be around the Mexican camp and when they reached the outskirts of the crowd that was jostling together in the street, they realized that the Mexicans were trapped, that if they had been unwise enough to start something they were outnumbered three to one. Here and there were Feather-in-the-Wind’s braves, ready for any emergency.,

A more immediate interest at length forced her mind from this sorrowful subject. It was necessary to determine upon some line of conduct, for she was now in an unknown spot, and ignorant of any place of refuge. The count, who trembled at the dangers which environed her, and at the probabilities he saw of her being torn from him for ever, suffered a consideration of them to overcome the dangerous delicacy which at this mournful period required his silence. He entreated her to destroy the possibility of separation, by consenting to become his immediately. He urged that a priest could be easily procured from a neighboring convent, who would confirm the bonds which had so long united their hearts, and who would thus at once arrest the destiny that so long had threatened his hopes.

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“Shall I come now?” asked the child, smiling.,

Little Thumbling, who had noticed that the ogre's daughters had golden crowns on their heads, and who was afraid that the ogre might repent not having killed him and his brothers that evening, got up in the middle of the night, and, taking off his own nightcap, and those of his brothers, went very softly and placed them on the heads of the ogre's daughters, first taking off their golden crowns, which he put on his brothers and himself, in order that the ogre might mistake them for his daughters, and his daughters for the boys whom he wanted to kill.,

“It was queer there weren’t more, but none of the apples would fall in the basket, and they would whack right down on the ground, and so they got bruised—and then we ate them, you see, Mother.”,

Bob’s first feeling was of his own littleness, his unimportance in the face of such magnitude. But this went away as the sun, dropping steadily to the opposite horizon, began to paint the scenes with magic colors.