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“And how many gallons will it hold?”,Finally Bob’s father had to go back to New York. Several telegrams had come and the last one could not be disregarded. The night before he left Mr. Hazard led Bob out into the grounds. When they came to the fence, they leaned on it and started talking. The moon was up and shed its light on the flat fields. In the hum of the country stillness, only the summer whistle of the quail and the sharp plaintive cry of the whippoorwill were distinct.,It was a fine little boat. Johnny was captain and commanded grandly, giving many orders to the postmaster’s sons—those silly pipestems from Christiania, who did not know anything.,“Yes, that is best, little John.”,“Let him shoot!” was the answer.,Of solemn musing, and of vision wild!,At first, however, it was a little ceremonious. Johnny Blossom had to stand beside Father and Mother on the great marble steps and welcome the guests. He was rather sober and felt a little shy. Father and Mother, too, although they smiled, were somewhat serious. Mother’s eyes even had tears in them.,Fill the red bowls,,The lighting flashed thick and blue around, which, together with the thunder that seemed to rend the wide arch of heaven, and the melancholy aspect of the place, so awed the duke, that he involuntarily called to his people. His voice was answered only by the deep echoes which ran in murmurs through the place, and died away at a distance; and the moon now sinking behind a cloud, left him in total darkness.,Pleasant to see.,Johnny Blossom grew more and more excited. He stood on the tip end of the plank that extended out over the water.,“’Gainst rules, son,” was the man’s answer, pulling a lever which made a great bucket shoot up from the depths..