Unmarked6698
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
“Not yet,” was the crisp reply, “but Mr. Taylor wants to see you. Jerry King didn’t show up to-day either and he’s worried.” Bob was on his feet in an instant and sprang for a Mexican who had slipped into the aisle and was coming upon the Indian from behind. In the dim light everything was confused, but Bob’s fist found its mark and the man fell. The Indian was holding his own valiantly but Bob’s help had come at the right moment. Together they backed towards the door, fighting as they went. Then the lights went up and the Mexicans, fearing the consequences of their action, slipped into the nearest seats, hoping to escape notice. Every one looked at him as he stood beside the Admiral—such a little boy, with comical, freckled nose and smooth, brown hair. He looked up at his big, stalwart uncle who was reading about him, Johnny Blossom!.
453 people found this
review helpful
kez_ h (Kez_h)
- Flag inappropriate
- Show review history
“Do you need it right away?” Billy stood his wheel against the steps and flung his books on the porch table.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
“And I’m always going to be your little girl, too,” the child pleaded; “so Billy must be my papa’s little boy.”
658 people found this
review helpful
Conrad
“Why—it—it came so.” The interest which these mysterious circumstances excited in the mind of Julia, had withdrawn her attention from a subject more dangerous to its peace. The image of Vereza, notwithstanding, would frequently intrude upon her fancy; and, awakening the recollection of happy emotions, would call forth a sigh which all her efforts could not suppress. She loved to indulge the melancholy of her heart in the solitude of the woods. One evening she took her lute to a favorite spot on the seashore, and resigning herself to a pleasing sadness, touched some sweet and plaintive airs. The purple flush of evening was diffused over the heavens. The sun, involved in clouds of splendid and innumerable hues, was setting o'er the distant waters, whose clear bosom glowed with rich reflection. The beauty of the scene, the soothing murmur of the high trees, waved by the light air which overshadowed her, and the soft shelling of the waves that flowed gently in upon the shores, insensibly sunk her mind into a state of repose. She touched the chords of her lute in sweet and wild melody, and sung the following ode: “This is Jerry King, Bob,” said Whitney. “Another member of my corps. Shake hands with Bob Hazard, Jerry. We will all be together this summer.” CHAPTER IX.
298 people found this
review helpful