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“I reckon we’ll have to wait until morning to see what we can do about fixing the boat,” said Bob. “It’s much too dark now. Come on, we’ll light a fire and be as comfortable as we can. We’re sort of inland Robinson Crusoe’s, aren’t we?”,

Julia was silent and thoughtful; Hippolitus gradually sunk into the same mood, and he often cast a cautious look around as they travelled for some hours along the feet of the mountains. They stopped to dine under the shade of some beach-trees; for, fearful of discovery, Hippolitus had provided against the necessity of entering many inns. Having finished their repast, they pursued their journey; but Hippolitus now began to doubt whether he was in the right direction. Being destitute, however, of the means of certainty upon this point, he followed the road before him, which now wound up the side of a steep hill, whence they descended into a rich valley, where the shepherd's pipe sounded sweetly from afar among the hills. The evening sun shed a mild and mellow lustre over the landscape, and softened each feature with a vermil glow that would have inspired a mind less occupied than Julia's with sensations of congenial tranquillity.,

“A railroad goes to the job all right, Bob, but it’s meant for freight and a train runs only three times a week. The line was built by the Service and belongs to the Government. We’ve come the wrong day to catch that train.”,

“How do you know?”

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For that was just the way the trouble began. He had been walking on his tallest stilts the whole afternoon—the stilts that were exactly, to the dot, one yard fifteen inches and a half tall—and then had sat himself on the fence along the back alley. He was facing the yard, with his back toward the alley, and that disgusting Olsen boy came past and gave him a dig in the back with that sharp stick. Just think of it! Wouldn’t anybody say it was unbearable?,

The boat scraped against the wharf.,

As he swam nearer to the object which was swirling around in the water, it constantly eluded his grasp, but he saw that it was Jerry. It was as if the river was playing tag with him, snatching the thing he wanted out of his reach. Reason told him that Jerry was dead. What was the use of his trying to keep up this endeavor when it was all so useless? But something kept him striving, held him to his aim. He couldn’t give up. With a last despairing lunge, he shot into the eddy and caught his comrade’s shoulder. With infinite pains he swam with his prize to the bank. Safely there, he had only strength to pull it halfway out of the water.,

"What I now wish for," said the fairy, "is a bunch of the rarest flowers; see if this coming happiness you speak of will obtain these for you. If you fail to get them, blows will not fail to follow, for these I often give, and know well how to administer." The Queen began to cry; such threats as these were anything but pleasant to her and she was in despair at the thought of the impossibility of finding flowers.