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“What’s your grouch?” Jerry asked, seemingly puzzled by Bob’s manner. “Aren’t you going to welcome me home any better than that?” “Hello,” said the stranger as he grew nearer. “Where you from? The dam?” “That’s mighty tough,” said Bob sympathetically, when Jerry paused for a moment. “I’ll bet Mr. Whitney cares—”.
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kez_ h (Kez_h)
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Conrad
He arrived at the monastery, and his grief may easily be imagined, when he was informed of the death of his beloved sister, and of the flight of Julia. He quitted St Augustin's immediately, without even knowing that Madame de Menon was there, and set out for a town at some leagues distance, where he designed to pass the night. Here his steps lingered a little, but he walked on nevertheless. Oh! there it hung by the boiler closet. But what a forlorn, miserable thing! He had not remembered that it was so worn out. Why, it scarcely held together! It was almost a disgrace to have such shabby fishing tackle, especially now when William Holm had that brand-new pole and Philip Krag was going to get one tomorrow. No, this old thing would not do. He positively needed a new outfit, and that meant that he simply must have some money. THE FAIRIES.
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