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“A good idea,” commented Jerry as Bob, due to the new method of progress, missed hitting a wicked rock.,

'Soon after my noviciation, I had the misfortune to lose my dear father. In the tranquillity of this monastery, however, in the soothing kindness of my companions, and in devotional exercises, my sorrows found relief, and the sting of grief was blunted. My repose was of short continuance. A circumstance occurred that renewed the misery, which, can now never quit me but in the grave, to which I look with no fearful apprehension, but as a refuge from calamity, trusting that the power who has seen good to afflict me, will pardon the imperfectness of my devotion, and the too frequent wandering of my thoughts to the object once so dear to me.',

“I’ve known for a long time, Jerry, that you were not a born engineer like Bob Hazard here, but you’ve been a good rodman and I hate to lose you. Besides, I won’t soon forget what you did for us in the Mexican mix-up. But everyone must do what he thinks is best. Good luck to you!”,

What a crazy idea! Glad, when it had all come about only because Uncle Isaac was dead—dear, good, kind Uncle Isaac! Every time Johnny Blossom thought of him a lump came in his throat. Then he would whistle to try to get the lump away, but whistling did not help greatly, for he was very sorry and missed Uncle Isaac so much. No, glad about it he could never be, never in the world.

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Some things about these visits were rather tiresome. Not exactly with Uncle Isaac, though you had to be a bit careful with him, too; but there was that fussy housekeeper of his, Miss Melling. One was never sure which door she would poke her nose out of and call: “Walk quietly, Johnny. Shut the door softly. Have you wiped your feet thoroughly, Johnny boy?”,

The foreman was so surprised that involuntarily his hand made the signal and a second later Bob was climbing through space, faster than a rocket!,

“Good work, Bob, my boy! It’s great to see you! Have a good trip? You’ve grown since I saw you—how’re the other fellows? How’s Big Chris?”,

“If we can only get behind the Tongue,” repeated Johnny. They rowed steadily for a while, their red faces showing the effort they made, while the wind blew more fiercely than ever.