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Once upon a time there lived a King and Queen who had two handsome boys; so well-fed and hearty were they, that they grew like the day.,“All right,” said Jerry rather ungraciously. “But you’ll soon catch on to it when we start work. You’ll have to.”,The old people strayed through the house upstairs and down. They looked at everything, felt of everything, exclaimed over everything; they ate, and put into their pockets, and ate again.,Some time for a husband to wait,No, Johnny Blossom had never thought of such a thing. He shut his eyes tight so as to know how it would seem to be blind. Oh, dear, it must be dreadful! Think of everything being dark—always, always dark!,They unbound the boy and pulled him off the horse. They went rapidly through his pockets and relieved him of everything they could find—his watch, small change, and the jackknife he always carried. Then, before he had a moment to limber up his cramped muscles, he was dumped unceremoniously into the hut and the door was pulled to.,This news made Steve Whitney jump out of his chair. “What!” he cried. “You went through the Labyrinth? You’re joking.”,“But those that were bruised you said we might eat, and we have done that,” said Johnny Blossom, frankly and virtuously.,“Aren’t you glad that you can see?” said Grandmother to the boys one day. “Don’t you thank God every day for your good eyes?”,They stole glances at Aunt Grenertsen’s window. Fortunately, she was not looking out and so had not seen the unlucky outcome of this attempt. Hastily thrusting the eight apples into their blouses, they both climbed the tree again and stretched and reached their utmost till one branch broke and the boys nearly tumbled from the tree.,'From that fatal day, until very lately, I saw the marquis no more—but was attended by a person who had been for some years dependant upon his bounty, and whom necessity, united to an insensible heart, had doubtless induced to accept this office. He generally brought me a week's provision, at stated intervals, and I remarked that his visits were always in the night.,“Mother! Mother!” shrieked Asta. “Here’s a piece of a finger, with your big shears, lying on the attic stairs!”.