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Bob—that was the horse’s name—knew Johnny whenever he went into the stable; there was no doubt about that, for the little horse would turn around in his stall and whinny at the sound of the boy’s step or voice. Of course Johnny always had sugar for him and brushed his pretty coat for him every day—dear, cunning little Bob!,

The late Marquis de Mazzini, and Maria de Vellorno, were interred with the honor due to their rank in the church of the convent of St Nicolo. Their lives exhibited a boundless indulgence of violent and luxurious passions, and their deaths marked the consequences of such indulgence, and held forth to mankind a singular instance of divine vengeance.,

“Can’t get him—gone to Las Cruces. Yes, hello, Mixer? The Chief? Gone? Yes, yes! Where? North end spillway! Right! ’Bye.” She pulled out the plug and said to Jerry, “Started for spillway ten minutes ago. No phone there yet. Take fifteen minutes get messenger there—can you wait?”,

As she spoke she raised her eyes, which beamed with truth and meek assurance to heaven; and the fine devotional suffusion of her countenance seemed to characterize the beauty of an inspired saint.

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"Sister," said the eldest one, "an idea has occurred to me: let us try to keep her here over the week. Her stupid old Beast will be enraged at her breaking her word, and perhaps he will devour her." "You are right, sister," replied the other; "to carry out our plan, we must appear very loving and kind to her." And having settled this, they went back to the house and were so affectionate to her, that Beauty cried for joy. When the week drew to a close, the two sisters showed such signs of grief at her departure, and made such lamentation, that she promised to stay till the end of the second one. Beauty, however, reproached herself for the sorrow she would cause her poor Beast, whom she loved with all her heart; and she began to miss him very much. On the tenth night of her absence, she dreamed that she was in the garden of the castle, and that she saw the Beast lying on the grass, apparently dying, and that he reproached her with her ingratitude. Beauty awoke with a start, and wept. "I am indeed wicked," she said, "to behave so ungratefully to a Beast who has been so considerate and kind to me! Is it his fault that he is ugly and that he is not clever? He is good, and that is worth everything else. Why did I refuse to marry him? I should be happier with him than my sisters are with their husbands. It is neither beauty nor wit in a husband which makes a wife happy; it is amiability of character, uprightness and generosity: and the Beast has all these good qualities. I do not love him, but I respect him, and I feel both affection for him, and gratitude. I will not make him unhappy; should I do so, I should reproach myself for it as long as I live.",

There was nothing to use as kindling! He had only one match and a broken one at that. To make sure of his fire catching he ought to have paper or some substance equally easy to light. The wood was dry but it was too big to catch from one match.,

“But that’s not like having someone you belong to!” cried Jerry. “The Boss is all right but he isn’t a family. Why, the first thing I remember is selling papers in the Loop back in Chicago when I was hardly big enough to walk, and getting licked when I got home because I didn’t bring in enough pennies. Home!” the boy’s voice broke on the word. “It wasn’t a home!”,

“Isn’t it my turn now, Johnny Blossom?”