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The fact that Jerry was gone whirled in his head. He must find out where his comrade was. Looking down, he saw something which had escaped his first look. It was a black object bobbing about in an eddy off the main rush of the current. He could not be sure that it was Jerry. His wracked bones told him it was only driftwood—that Jerry was gone—that he could make no further effort. But his pride and determination told him he must go on. It might be Jerry and if he did not make sure he could never forgive himself.,

“Wash yourself thoroughly,” she said. Oh, yes! That was what Mother always said. John showed her two red ears he had scrubbed, but she wasn’t satisfied. Oh, dear! How many bothersome crinkles and crannies there were in an ear, anyway!,

His children gathered round him; but instead of finding pleasure in their caresses, he began to weep as he looked upon them. He held in his hand the branch of roses which he had brought for Beauty. "Take them," he said, as he gave them to her, "your unhappy father has paid dearly for them." And then he told his family of the melancholy adventure that had befallen him.,

“Oh, shucks,” said Jerry. “Probably the way out is hidden just like the way we’ve come. Look back. You can’t see how we got in here, can you?”

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Strangely enough, Mother could not understand what studying had to do with everything being scattered over the floor; but at any rate, to make space for the fishing rod in the little room was plainly impossible. Of course he could not think of taking the rod apart. Well, it would have to be left on the veranda tonight. What if some one should take it? Haunted by this dreadful thought, Johnny Blossom was very wakeful. He tossed and turned for a long time before he finally fell asleep.,

CHAPTER XI,

On the morning preceding the day of her consecration, she was informed that a stranger enquired for her at the grate. Her mind had been so long accustomed to the vicissitudes of apprehension, that fear was the emotion which now occurred; she suspected, yet scarcely knew why, that the marquis was below, and hesitated whether to descend. A little reflection determined her, and she went to the parlour—where, to her equal joy and surprise, she beheld—Ferdinand!,

Julia, resigning herself to despair, indulged in solitude the excess of her grief. A calamity, so dreadful as the present, had never before presented itself to her imagination. The union proposed would have been hateful to her, even if she had no prior attachment; what then must have been her distress, when she had given her heart to him who deserved all her admiration, and returned all her affection.