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THE MAHOGANY TREE,

At last the start was made and after a walk of about a quarter of a mile along the rim the party came to the head of the Bright Angel Trail which led to the bottom. At first the going was fairly easy, but soon the trail grew steeper and steeper and Bob was amazed to see the calm way in which the little donkeys kept their footing, particularly when they were carrying large and heavy human beings. Owing to the immense zigzags that the trail had to take in order to provide a safe path, a lot of ground had to be covered. Therefore it was not until almost noon that the party reached the first plateau. This “plateau” is in reality far from flat. It is merely a slight leveling out of the general declivity about two-thirds of the way down.,

But an object seriously interesting now obtained that regard, which those of mere amusement failed to attract. Her favorite nun, for whom her love and esteem daily increased, seemed declining under the pressure of a secret grief. Julia was deeply affected with her situation, and though she was not empowered to administer consolation to her sorrows, she endeavoured to mitigate the sufferings of illness. She nursed her with unremitting care, and seemed to seize with avidity the temporary opportunity of escaping from herself. The nun appeared perfectly reconciled to her fate, and exhibited during her illness so much sweetness, patience, and resignation as affected all around her with pity and love. Her angelic mildness, and steady fortitude characterized the beatification of a saint, rather than the death of a mortal. Julia watched every turn of her disorder with the utmost solicitude, and her care was at length rewarded by the amendment of Cornelia. Her health gradually improved, and she attributed this circumstance to the assiduity and tenderness of her young friend, to whom her heart now expanded in warm and unreserved affection. At length Julia ventured to solicit what she had so long and so earnestly wished for, and Cornelia unfolded the history of her sorrows.,

“Hurray!” called Bob, who was in the lead. “There she is.”

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Naturally, Bob’s first thought was of escape, of some way in which to get out of the four walls which kept him from carrying the warning to Mr. Whitney that might mean the saving of the dam. If he could only get out, he did not fear Harper’s being on guard. The last speech that had come to him through the door had been so contradictory and had emphasized so strongly the fact that Harper would be outside, that Bob was quite sure he wouldn’t. At any rate he was willing to take the chance if only he could get out.,

“I was on board the coal steamer—that’s where I was. His name is Hobborn, Mother, and just listen! he set a big jar of preserves before me—I think it was raspberries—and I ate a lot, and then he gave me this whistle. Now I’ll blow it.” An ear-splitting blast followed.,

The poor man, seeing plainly that an ogress was not to be trifled with, took his great knife and went up to little Aurora's room. She was then about four years old, and came jumping and laughing to throw her arms about his neck, and ask him for sweetmeats. He burst into tears, and the knife fell from his hands; then he went down again and into the farmyard, and there killed a little lamb which he served up with so delicious a sauce, that his mistress assured him she had never eaten anything so excellent. In the meanwhile, he had carried off little Aurora, and given her to his wife, that she might hide her in the lodging which she occupied at the further end of the farmyard. A week later, the wicked Queen said to her head cook, "I will eat little Day for supper." He made no reply, having decided in his own mind to deceive her as before.,

“I think you’re right,” put in Jerry. “There ought to be nothing but the United States between Canada and the Panama Canal. But I don’t think we’ll go into Mexico unless the Mexicans raid our territory and kill somebody.”