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Great cascades of water are rushing from the high hills, tumbling, hurrying, with their own melodious music, into the rocky basins that kind nature has built to receive them. The soothing voices of the air are growing louder, more full of strength; the branches of the elms bow down before them; the gentle wind, "a sweet and passionate wooer," kisses the blushing leaf with perhaps a fiercer warmth than it did a month agone.,Mrs. Wilson caught her breath, but whatever objections her mind raised against the last named remained unuttered. All she said was. "This is your party, Willium. Anybody else, now?","Did you see Mā-mĭn´?" asked Red Robe, when his grandmother had returned with the meat and had told him what the chief had said.,"Well, this is luck!" he began, but paused, seeing the girls. "I'm in for a bit of lunch before the matinee, and I can only say 'howdy.' Going to take in the miracle play at the Globe,—finest thing in town, they say. See you later, perhaps," and he bowed to them all, vaguely including the three girls in his kindly glance.,Battersea himself knew nothing of its esoteric meaning, but to the negress the mention of the emblem conveyed a distinct understanding. She let her arms fall listlessly by her side, and, with an unseeing gaze, she stared at the green trees bathed in hot sunshine. After a moment or so she muttered to herself in negro jargon and clenched her hands.,"Kawak!" said Croaker, and jumping to the ground he started away, head twisted backward toward the boy and girl, coaxing sounds pouring from his half open beak.,"Gee! how am I to know; it's right here somewheres, though.",When he reached his room he found the light on and Jerry about to slip into his bunk.,“What’s the matter with Billy To-morrow? He’s thirteen! Three and ten! Most a man! He’s all right!”,"I understand that your honour's got command of this ship," answered Paul.,Off they bounded, side by side, through the fragrant spring evening. The red of the western sky touched to brighter rosiness their glowing cheeks, tinted Jean’s wind-blown hair with gold. As they neared the town she shot ahead in a last ambitious spurt, wheeled and faced him as he came up.,"The Phœbe is bound to that port," again interrupted Mr Fellowes..