Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
"You bet he was. Had Ringdo up a tree an' was doin' his best to knock him out." On which Captain Weaver exclaimed: "The Minorca, of course. She was French, and what's called barque-rigged." The door opened and her husband entered. He cast a quick, apprehensive glance at his wife, and the low whistle died on his lips as he passed over to the long roller towel hanging above the wash-bench and proceeded to dry his hands..
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
“I’m the Royal Egyptian Fortune Teller!” Bess announced, in a deep voice. “This is my desert tent. I shall reveal the past, present, and future to those only whom my favor shall designate. Slaves, the lamps!”I tried logging in using my phone number and I
was supposed to get a verification code text,but didn't
get it. I clicked resend a couple time, tried the "call
me instead" option twice but didn't get a call
either. the trouble shooting had no info on if the call
me instead fails.There was
Moses Wopp, not quite reconciled to this unexpected order of things, as it seemed to involve a protracted fast for his already clamoring stomach, nevertheless made haste to obey his father’s instructions. Josh and Jake were quickly unhitched and led into the stable. They were accommodated with a mangerful of hay, which they immediately fell to munching. Moses then ran after Mr. Wopp and Clarence, who were already busily searching the wooded banks of the creek, thoroughly scrutinizing the underbrush, which in some places was exceedingly dense and tangled. Within the next half-hour they were joined by four other men, despatched by Mrs. Mifsud, and the whole party proceeded slowly and carefully down the creek, some one of the number occasionally shouting the name of the lost boy.
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
"But where is Lucy?" cried Miss Acton. "Then what have you done to find out what has become of her?" Mrs. Keeler was bending over a kettle on the stove, from which the aroma of wild thimble-berries came in fragrant puffs. "Yes, Ma'am; I mean jest that. You see, Ma, that ol' horse don't belong to Teacher Johnston any more. We bought him.".
298 people found this
review helpful