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dice games Hallock had opened the door and said “Come right in. I want to see you a Major Jen's calls for least. His face was round and red, with a terrific blonde mustache fiercely curled. He had merry blue eyes, sparse hair, more than touched with gray, and an expression of good-humor which was the index to his character. Man, woman and child trusted Jen on the spot, nor was it ever said that such trust was misplaced. Even the most censorious could find no fault with the frank and kindly major, and he had more friends and more pensioners and fewer enemies than any man in the shire. Can any further explanation be required of so simple and easily understood a character?,The heart of Julia beat quick.,"Boy, you're a wonder!" Hinter cried. "But you took a terrible chance. Dexter!" he said to the other dog, "don't you want to be friends with this wild-animal tamer, too?",“Did she? And how many did Aunt Grenertsen get?”,Patricia studied her with eager interest. The bride of half a year was still a bride to her, and the transformation of the limp, bedraggled art student into this languid, elegant young lady was an affair that had its beginnings at Greycroft, for it was under that hospitable roof that Mr. Bingham had first seen Miss Auborn. In the merry Babel of the studio party Mrs. Bingham held her own with a calm assurance that Miss Auborn had not possessed, and when Mr. Bingham, pink and smiling as ever and just a bit more bald, joined them, the air of mild authority with which she welcomed that gentleman impressed Patricia even more strongly.，"Yep; they don't seem to take to the crick water," Billy replied. "It's sort of scummy an' smells queer."，THE CAMP OF THE GHOSTS，"Very good, miss; I'm going," says the woman, and with a last touch to the butter she covers it over with a clean wet cloth and moves to the yard door. The two chickens on the threshold, who have retreated and advanced a thousand times, now retire finally with an angry "cluck-cluck," and once more silence reigns.Of course, anybody that is anybody would be interested in Father Tiber and the old Colosseum, but what made me forget the one slice of dry toast and the apple was the way he seemed to be connecting me up with all those wonderful old antiquities that had never even seen me. Because of me he had felt and written that poem descriptive of old Tiber, and the moonlight had lit up the Colosseum just because I was over here lighting up Hillsboro. Of course, that is not the way he put it all, but there is no place to really copy what he did say down into this imp book and, anyway, that is the sentiment he expressed, boiled down and sugared over.

CHAPTER V.,"Oh! can nothing be done?" asks Mona, turning to him eyes full of entreaty.,“By this time Joner was snorin’ in the bottom of the boat, an’ the man that was bossin’ the ship comes up to Joner an’ woke him an’ arsked him to pray.”,"Glad you like it," said Billy.,"A story of foolhardiness, madam, largely due to my difficulty in foreseeing issues.",The simple query confounds him more than might a more elaborate one put by a clever worldling. Why indeed?,"It's failed ye have, as I knowed ye wud," he chuckled. "Ye best be lavin' now, both av ye, wid yer pranks.",“Mr. Whitney? Oh, you mean ‘Whiskers,’ who put the engineering bug into Bob’s head, last year. We found him up the river at the cave. Would you like to go up there?”,"An' what brought him home, the murdherin' scamp," says Miss Bridget, with more vehemence than politeness, "instid of stayin' wid ye to see ye came to no harm?",“I don’t think you will have to wait much longer,” said Whitney laughing. Then he turned to Bob. “Made up your mind yet? You can go along with me if you’re going back East—”,"Later on, I may tell you all I know.",“Ain’t she her own aunt?” hazarded Mr. Wopp, abstractedly thrusting his hammer into his boot top and scratching his bald head with a pair of pincers..