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“Are you sure of it?” Johnny’s blue eyes gazed earnestly at his mother.,His spouse need fear no such disaster;,“That’s fine!” said the much relieved boy.,“Oh, they’re dry,” said Johnny, feeling of the clothes. “They’re as dry as tinder.”,“Yes”—sob, sob—“my clothes are down on the wharf and the ladies are sitting there eating and laughing and—boo-hoo-hoo!”,“Well, some were half-rotten, and you said yourself that we might eat”—,Light-hearted now, Johnny Blossom ran through the garden, fastening the gate carefully, while at the window an old face peered out from among the plants, through tear-misted spectacles. Then Aunt Grenertsen took the stamp and pasted it on the window pane nearest where she sat.,Jerry King!,“What is it?” asked Grandmother.,At the abbey, solitude and stillness conspired with the solemn aspect of the pile to impress the mind with religious awe. The dim glass of the high-arched windows, stained with the colouring of monkish fictions, and shaded by the thick trees that environed the edifice, spread around a sacred gloom, which inspired the beholder with congenial feelings.,“Take it back? What do you mean, John?”,“But why in the world should you sell all these things?”.