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Impossibilities expecting:,

As soon as the funeral was over, the dukes and marquises of the kingdom placed the big Prince on a throne made of gold and diamonds; he wore a splendid crown on his head, and robes of violet velvet embroidered with suns and moons. Then the whole Court cried out, "Long live the King!" and now on all sides there was nothing but rejoicing.,

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What a clear light green the water was under the wharf! You could see every single snail shell, every starfish, and every tiniest stone on the smooth, light-colored bottom. Whole schools of small fish darted, quick as lightning, between the slimy old piles. Once in a while a lazy eel glided under the wharf, wound slowly in and out, lay still a moment as if to sun itself, then slowly, curve after curve, took itself out again.

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“See that thundering big one away over there? I’m going to get her,” said Eric, pointing to a venerable looking crab that had been lying for a long time squeezed in between two rocks. The boys dangled the string with the stone on it temptingly near the big crab. Crabs usually get excited over a stone swinging above them that way. They reach up for it, grip it tightly, and—a jerk and up they come! But this crab had seen too many such stones in its long life, and lay stock still without moving a claw.,

When he was in the street he put the precious report into his pocket, whistling joyously a beautiful tune that his mother often played. Who cared for any one’s teasing now? Even the boys might try it if they liked, for he was ready for them. The Principal knew all there was to know. Awfully kind man, that Principal!,

In the cool water, Bob soon forgot his hurts. Coming out on the shore he took stock of the damage that had been done. His hands were sore and stinging sensations from different parts of his body told him that he had not come off scot-free. Such clothes as he had on were ruined and he knew that in all probability he was such a sight that his own father would not have recognized him if they had met face to face.,

“Please, Mr. Whitney, won’t you tell me something about the Reclamation Service? Although I have read what I could, I know very little about the real spirit of it, only just figures showing what it’s done or is going to do.”