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The rest was "nought but leather and prunella.",Old Rolfsen reached out a gnarled, rough hand to Johnny and all the rest of the workmen came, one by one, and shook hands with him. It was queer, but it was pleasant, too, for he knew them all and he smiled at them as they greeted him. Lars Berget gripped his hand so hard that it really hurt. And just think! Even Carlstrom came and made a beautiful bow (My! how stiff his moustache ends were today!), and to crown all, Miss Melling pressed forward and actually courtesied! At this Johnny Blossom was so astounded that he had to look over at his mother.,Only when he had carried all his treasure to the door, did he realize that in all probability his work had been in vain.,“Well. I’ve been out sailing with an umbrella”—,My, oh, my! Here he stood without any clothes on and with the boat-hook from the “Sea Mew” in his hand! And here came the merchant who owned the sail-boat.,One day, her mother having baked some cakes, said to her, "Go and see how your grandmother is getting on, for I have been told she is ill; take her a cake and this little jar of butter." Whereupon Little Red Riding-Hood started off without delay towards the village in which her grandmother lived. On her way she had to pass through a wood, and there she met that sly old fellow, Mr Wolf, who felt that he should very much like to eat her up on the spot, but was afraid to do so, as there were woodcutters at hand in the forest. He asked her which way she was going, and the poor child, not knowing how dangerous it is to stop and listen to a wolf, answered, "I am going to see my grandmother, and am taking a cake and a little jar of butter, which my mother has sent her.",Bob dived at his former chum with all his force. They grappled.,After recovering her senses a little, she picked up the key, locked the door again, and went up to her room to try and compose herself; but she found it impossible to quiet her agitation.,“Hurray!” called Bob, who was in the lead. “There she is.”,“Come, old lady,” encouraged Eric.,“It is horrid, but”—great searching first in one pocket of his trousers, then in the other—“but if you will please take this report back”—,'The very reverse,' replied Ferdinand; 'tis you who deceive yourself, or rather it is the delicacy of the passion which animates you, and which will ever operate against your clear perception of a truth in which your happiness is so deeply involved. Believe me, I speak not without reason:—she loves you.'.