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Hinter held out his hand. "Well, good night, Miss Erie," he said. "I'll be up again soon, with some books for you." Frank lifted a wan face. "You mean——?" his dry lips formed the words. "It sure is, but I can't help wonderin' where Croaker found it. Maybe you wouldn't mind lettin' me off Sunday School today, Ma," he suggested, "so's I kin trail off an' find that Croaker. Any crow that kin pick up gold pieces that way is worth watchin'. Kin I go look fer him, Ma?".
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kez_ h (Kez_h)
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Johnny Blossom was nearly out of the grounds on his way home when the servant came running after him to tell him that his uncle wanted him. Johnny turned back with great delight. He had known well enough that Uncle Isaac would wish to see him after receiving such a beautiful present.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
As he came up the Indian held out his hand and said gravely, “Feather-in-the-Wind thanks you.” Without further word he marched off.
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Conrad
"I think you are a mutinous dog," said Mr Lawrence in a snarling, sarcastic voice, but preserving a frown that was portentous of an intellectual thunderstorm through the darkness of which the eyes would flash lightning. "Do you see those men-of-war out yonder? I need but make a signal to bring an armed crew aboard, and then you shall[Pg 337] be carried into the first port that's convenient and discharged to make way for a crew of willing men—men willing to obey their commander, who must be willing to obey his owner." Jim shook his head. "Promised Billy Wilson I'd sit with him," he said. "Kin you tell me where he's goin' to sit?" As the carriage went down a lane into the main road, it overtook Sir William Lawrence, who was stoutly trudging along in the [Pg 86]direction of Old Harbour, striking the ground as he went with a staff with the regularity of the pounding of a wooden leg whose owner marches steadily. The monotonous and commonplace demands of everyday life on board ship as well as on shore will enter into the most exalted and uncommon forms of romance at sea. Whether Lucy Acton was mad, or whether she was merely acting a part, it was as certain she must be fed as though she was a vulgar, homely, steerage passenger with nothing more poetic and soul-lifting in her life than the faded portrait of the milkman who wooed and then jilted her..
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