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The old man ventured no further curiosity in what they had done. They had come through the Labyrinth, he had accepted the fact, and that was all there was to it. He spoke very little and when the boys asked the way to the nearest railroad, his answer was given in rather a relieved tone. It was as if he would be glad to have the silence to himself again.,

Still the Queen was no less sorrowful; the King asked her once more what was the matter. She told him that, being hungry, she had eaten hastily, and had swallowed her wedding-ring. The King knew that she was not speaking the truth, for he had himself put away the ring, and he replied, "My dear wife, you are not speaking the truth; here is your ring, which I have kept in my purse." The Queen was put out of countenance at being caught telling a lie—for there is nothing in the world so ugly—and she saw that the King was vexed, so she told him what the fairies had predicted about little Rosette, and begged him to tell her if he could think of any remedy. The King was greatly troubled, so much so, that at last he said to the Queen, "I see no way of saving our two boys, except by putting the little girl to death, while she is still in her swaddling clothes." But the Queen cried that she would rather suffer death herself, that she would never consent to so cruel a deed, and that the King must try and think of some other remedy. The King and Queen could think of nothing else, and while thus pondering over the matter, the Queen was told that in a large wood near the town, there lived an old hermit, who made his home in the trunk of a tree, whom people went from far and near to consult.,

How pleasant that no one was up yet, and that he could settle himself cosily at Mother’s writing desk! Uncle Isaac had been his godfather at baptism, so Johnny Blossom wrote:,

There lay the steamer already. They rowed their best, but saw that a big boat carrying passengers ashore had already started. Pshaw! Too bad they had come so late! However, Johnny Blossom rowed swiftly and carefully alongside the steamer.

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“Well,” said he, pausing after each word of his speech, as was his custom, “well, the old gentleman was a good man, as we all know—we who worked for him. He was always good to us, never anything but good. But now there is only this to say: we wish to bid this boy welcome. We know him, and it will surprise me if he does not prove the same sort as the old gentleman. And that is the reason we welcome you, Johnny Blossom.”,

There was no better luck this time and when he came again to the door he was ready to admit defeat.,

It was weeks before there came a break in the monotony of his work. He had forced himself to be cheerful about his stupid job and not to show by the least sign that he was not entirely content with the work he had been set to do. Mr. Taylor, who since the advent of the Chief, had taken charge of the office work, spoke to Mr. Whitney. “That boy, Hazard, is a good lad,” he said. “Although the plucky beggar won’t own up, I think he is eating his heart out at the draughting board. I can get along without him, so give him a chance outside if you can.”,

“That must’ve been some job. I wish we had been here to do it, don’t you, Mr. Whitney?”