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The woodcutter began at last to lose his temper, for she repeated over twenty times that they would repent the deed, and that she had said it would be so. He threatened to beat her if she did not hold her tongue. It was not that the woodcutter was not, perhaps, even more sorry than his wife, but that she made so much noise about it, and that he was like many other people, who are fond of women who say the right thing, but are annoyed by those who are always in the right. The wife was all in tears. "Alas! where are now my children, my poor children?" She uttered her cry, at last, so loudly, that the children, who were at the door, heard her, and began to call out all together, "Here we are! here we are!" She rushed to the door to open it, and embracing them, exclaimed, "How thankful I am to see you again, my dear children; you are very tired and hungry; and you, little Peter, how dirty you are! come here and let me wash you." Peter was her eldest son, and she loved him better than all the rest, because he was red-headed, and she was rather red-haired herself. They sat down to supper and ate with an appetite that delighted their father and mother, to whom they related how frightened they had been in the forest, nearly all keeping on speaking at the same time. The good people were overjoyed to see their children around them once more, and their joy lasted as long as the ten crowns. When the money was spent, however, they fell back into their former state of misery, and resolved to lose their children again; and to make quite sure of doing so this time, they determined to lead them much further from home than they had before.,

“Jeremias the wood-cutter is ill in bed, too,” he said suddenly.,

“Express yourself clearly and eat properly.”,

The marchioness had long nourished a secret dislike to Madame de Menon, whose virtues were a silent reproof to her vices. The contrariety of their disposition created in the marchioness an aversion which would have amounted to contempt, had not that dignity of virtue which strongly characterized the manners of madame, compelled the former to fear what she wished to despise. Her conscience whispered her that the dislike was mutual; and she now rejoiced in the opportunity which seemed to offer itself of lowering the proud integrity of madame's character. Pretending, therefore, to believe that she had encouraged Ferdinand to disobey his father's commands, and had been accessary to the elopement, she accused her of these offences, and stimulated the marquis to reprehend her conduct. But the integrity of Madame de Menon was not to be questioned with impunity. Without deigning to answer the imputation, she desired to resign an office of which she was no longer considered worthy, and to quit the castle immediately. This the policy of the marquis would not suffer; and he was compelled to make such ample concessions to madame, as induced her for the present to continue at the castle.

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Ted was puzzled at the reference Bob had made to the Chief Engineer. “You called him Whiskers—is that your nickname for him?”,

“Yes, can do,” stated the Indian, and as they had approached the upper camp during their talk, he made a swift move of the hand in farewell and slipped swiftly into the shadows.,

Conversation may be divided into two classes—the familiar and the sentimental. It is the province of the familiar, to diffuse cheerfulness and ease—to open the heart of man to man, and to beam a temperate sunshine upon the mind.—Nature and art must conspire to render us susceptible of the charms, and to qualify us for the practice of the second class of conversation, here termed sentimental, and in which Madame de Menon particularly excelled. To good sense, lively feeling, and natural delicacy of taste, must be united an expansion of mind, and a refinement of thought, which is the result of high cultivation. To render this sort of conversation irresistibly attractive, a knowledge of the world is requisite, and that enchanting case, that elegance of manner, which is to be acquired only by frequenting the higher circles of polished life. In sentimental conversation, subjects interesting to the heart, and to the imagination, are brought forward; they are discussed in a kind of sportive way, with animation and refinement, and are never continued longer than politeness allows. Here fancy flourishes,—the sensibilities expand—and wit, guided by delicacy and embellished by taste—points to the heart.,

This started a new train of thought. Why had Jerry been foolish enough to show himself in the Quarter-house? Nothing could be gained by it. Could it be that he had come to warn Bob of the impending danger to the dam and consequently to himself? Perhaps the memory of the dangers they had shared and overcome in the Labyrinth had stirred him to a moment of remorse and a desire to see his chum safe. This seemed the most likely explanation but further thought was impossible, for Feather-in-the-Wind was ready to start.