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“I can never be as kind as Uncle Isaac!” Jerry went on with his story. “She told me I ought to be ashamed of myself, big, husky boy that I was, roaming around doing no useful work. Wanted to know why I didn’t stay there and help with the harvest and work for my living. This wasn’t the first time that I had been handed out the same sort of chatter. But I fell for it this time—she was sort of homely and nice. The only thing I was afraid of was the Denver Kid. I knew if I didn’t go back with something to eat he would come and find me and lick the stuffing out of me. I told Mrs. Olson—that was her name—that I would have to go but that I’d come back that night. For a moment I don’t think she believed me, but at last she let me go, giving me quite a lot of grub. “Now I have got across Niagara Falls, and all the people are shouting ‘Hurrah!’”.
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kez_ h (Kez_h)
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Conrad
"No, my sister," said the three brothers, "you shall not die; we will go and find out this monster, and we will either kill him or die beneath his blows." "Do not hope to kill him," said their father to them; "for the Beast is so powerful, that I fear there are no means by which he could be destroyed. My Beauty's loving[117] heart fills mine with gladness, but she shall not be exposed to such a terrible death. I am old, I have but a little while to live; I shall but lose a few years of life, which I regret on your account, and on yours alone, my children." Having dispatched an hasty meal, they again set forward in the way pointed out to them as the route of the fugitives. The country assumed a more civilized aspect. Corn, vineyards, olives, and groves of mulberry-trees adorned the hills. The vallies, luxuriant in shade, were frequently embellished by the windings of a lucid stream, and diversified by clusters of half-seen cottages. Here the rising turrets of a monastery appeared above the thick trees with which they were surrounded; and there the savage wilds the travellers had passed, formed a bold and picturesque background to the scene. “How the dickens do you happen to know that?” he would exclaim. “No,” said he hastily—and his clear young voice, though emphatic, had a note of childish fear—“no, I don’t want to, Uncle; I don’t want to stay here now that Uncle Isaac is dead”—.
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