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“Oh”—Further probing on Mother’s part to find out what Aunt Grenertsen’s share of the harvest had amounted to, drew forth the truth, uttered with a show of enthusiasm.,

Ferdinand listened to this narrative in silent wonder! wonder not occasioned by the adventure described, but by the hardihood and rashness of the marquis, who had thus exposed to the inspection of his people, that dreadful spot which he knew from experience to be the haunt of an injured spirit; a spot which he had hitherto scrupulously concealed from human eye, and human curiosity; and which, for so many years, he had not dared even himself to enter. Peter went on, but was presently interrupted by a hollow moan, which seemed to come from beneath the ground. 'Blessed virgin!' exclaimed he: Ferdinand listened in awful expectation. A groan longer and more dreadful was repeated, when Peter started from his seat, and snatching up the lamp, rushed out of the dungeon. Ferdinand, who was left in total darkness, followed to the door, which the affrighted Peter had not stopped to fasten, but which had closed, and seemed held by a lock that could be opened only on the outside. The sensations of Ferdinand, thus compelled to remain in the dungeon, are not to be imagined. The horrors of the night, whatever they were to be, he was to endure alone. By degrees, however, he seemed to acquire the valour of despair. The sounds were repeated, at intervals, for near an hour, when silence returned, and remained undisturbed during the rest of the night. Ferdinand was alarmed by no appearance, and at length, overcome with anxiety and watching, he sunk to repose.,

“It was four.”,

"Certainly, my good woman," she replied, and the beautiful girl at once stooped and rinsed out the jug, and then, filling it with water from the clearest part of the spring, she held it up to the woman, continuing to support the jug, that she might drink with greater comfort. Having drunk, the woman said to her, "You are so beautiful, so good and kind, that I cannot refrain from conferring a gift upon you," for she was really a fairy, who had taken the form of a poor village woman, in order to see how far the girl's kind-heartedness would go. "This gift I make you," continued the fairy, "that with every word you speak, either a flower or a precious stone will fall from your mouth."

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“No,” said Jerry. “Mr. Rutherford, my chief, wants him. Wall of auxiliary spillway this side of the river giving way—will flood all the buttress excavation. We’re shoring it, but Mr. Rutherford wants the Chief and in a hurry. I’m off but I’m afraid I’ll get him too late! If he calls up send him to Mr. Rutherford at once!” With this Jerry shot out of the office and down the hill, evidently planning to make his legs take him to the Chief.,

Bob laughed. “Well, water won’t hurt us. You’re sort of a grouch, aren’t you, Jerry?” he said pleasantly. It was a tactless thing to say, for the other boy shut up like a clam and except as it was absolutely necessary he gave no openings for further conversation.,

“No,” said he hastily—and his clear young voice, though emphatic, had a note of childish fear—“no, I don’t want to, Uncle; I don’t want to stay here now that Uncle Isaac is dead”—,

Mr. Whitney laughed. “The greatest drawback was a ridiculous thing. A long time ago a treaty was made with Mexico which prohibited the storing of flood water on the Rio Grande and it’s the flood water that is used in modern irrigation.”