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Oh, he had had enough—plenty.,

“It’s all right then,” he muttered and stood up to reassure the crowd.,

“Wouldn’t be surprised if I did,” said Link with a smile. “I’m getting a little tired of cows now. If you really want to go, Jerry, I’ll start along with you any time.”,

Along with the most determined of the tourists, Bob made the final descent to the bank of the river. It had been hot enough up at the hotel. On the plateau it was fairly sizzling, but once at the bottom the heat was intense. This probably accounted for the fact that the whole party was quite ready to begin the return trip as soon as the tourists got back their breath.

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They gulped their coffee and soon cast off, letting the stream carry them gently towards the face of the great obstruction. A few minutes later they saw the solution of this mystery. Under the cliff the river flowed swiftly and silently into a dark hole.,

The wedding was hardly over before the stepmother's ill-humour broke out. She could not endure the young girl, whose good qualities made her own daughters appear still more detestable. She put her to do all the most menial work in the house. It was she who washed up the plates and dishes, and cleaned the stairs; who scrubbed the stepmother's room, and those of her daughters. She slept in a garret at the top of the house, on a wretched straw mattress, while her sisters occupied rooms with inlaid floors, and had the latest fashioned beds, and mirrors in which they could see themselves from head to foot. The poor girl bore everything with patience, and did not dare complain to her father, who would only have scolded her, as he was entirely governed by his wife. When she had done her work, she was in the habit of going into the chimney-corner and sitting down amongst the cinders, which caused her to be nicknamed Cindertail by the household in general. The second daughter, however, who was not quite so rude as her sister, called her Cinderella. Nevertheless, Cinderella in her shabby clothes, still looked a thousand times more beautiful than her sisters, although so magnificently dressed.,

This boat that he was making was going to be a fine one—Johnny Blossom held it out and peered sharply at it, first lengthwise, then sidewise—the finest boat any one had ever whittled. Every one who saw it would say, “Who made that beautiful, graceful boat?” Well, here was the boy who could do it!,

“You’ll go into the water, youngsters!” shouted some one from the shore. It was Pilot Stiansen.