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“Eleven years old in four months and”—he began to reckon exactly how many days over there were before he should be eleven years old, but he did not have time because the Admiral lifted him suddenly and stood him on the table. Right up on the top of the handsome library table!,

Let them sing on,

“John dear,” said Mother, “you are not to use such expressions.”,

“Yes, just that. In other parts of the country this water is provided by rainfall. But deserts are deserts only because the rainfall is slight, if there is any at all. Therefore it is necessary to build dams in the country where there is rainfall, collect the water, and send it down to the desert lands where it is needed.”

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Mr. Whitney was as good as his word and gave the newcomer a chance to make good as a rodman. Bob felt that because he had found him he was a sort of protégé of his and they were together a good part of the time. At first Jerry was one of their group. But little by little he slipped back into the mood of silence and reserve which had been most noticeable about him before the trip through the Labyrinth had been made. Again he would go off by himself, seeming to prefer it to the companionship of the other two boys. Bob noticed that very rarely did he go down stream when he started off from the camp, but was headed in the general direction of the north. Never since that first day had he invited Bob to go along with him and after several of the trips he let fall remarks about the Service and his job that did not ring true in Bob’s ears. It was as if Jerry were nursing a grudge. But the fact that the boy who had shared the great adventure of the Labyrinth with him seemed to be growing away from him again, did not bother Bob as much as it might have had he and Ted Hoyt not become such good friends.,

“No, four, exactly.”,

The man nodded and for a moment Bob was amazed at the look of resemblance that was common to both. They might have been brothers or father and son.,

The interest which these mysterious circumstances excited in the mind of Julia, had withdrawn her attention from a subject more dangerous to its peace. The image of Vereza, notwithstanding, would frequently intrude upon her fancy; and, awakening the recollection of happy emotions, would call forth a sigh which all her efforts could not suppress. She loved to indulge the melancholy of her heart in the solitude of the woods. One evening she took her lute to a favorite spot on the seashore, and resigning herself to a pleasing sadness, touched some sweet and plaintive airs. The purple flush of evening was diffused over the heavens. The sun, involved in clouds of splendid and innumerable hues, was setting o'er the distant waters, whose clear bosom glowed with rich reflection. The beauty of the scene, the soothing murmur of the high trees, waved by the light air which overshadowed her, and the soft shelling of the waves that flowed gently in upon the shores, insensibly sunk her mind into a state of repose. She touched the chords of her lute in sweet and wild melody, and sung the following ode: