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“Reflection from the fire box of an engine on the smoke that passes over. The reason it comes in flashes is that it only shows when the fireman opens the door to pitch on another scoop of coal. Yes, there it is again!” They plodded on, much encouraged. “Find your ridge,” invited Bob politely, “the one behind which our river flows on and on and—” Master Cat, who still kept in advance of the party, came up to some reapers, and said to them, "You, good people, who are reaping, if you do not say that all this corn belongs to my Lord the Marquis of Carabas, you shall all be cut into pieces as small as minced meat.".
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Conrad
Kingthorpe was quiet and stately and a little awe-inspiring as usual. Miss Melling had gone to town and Uncle Isaac was ill in bed. After a little thought, Johnny Blossom sent the frame in to his uncle by the servant, with his best Christmas wishes. The servant was in livery and always carried a silver tray in his hand. Even when Uncle Isaac had nothing but gruel, he had it on a silver tray! “You should have!” This was all the rebuke the young engineer was to get. Perhaps it was because Whitney did things that way, that all his men adored him. He did not think that because a man made a mistake that he should be shamed before his fellow workers. He turned to Bob. "That would be of little use," replied Beauty. "Why should I cry about my father's death? He is not going to die. Since the monster is willing to accept one of his daughters, I will give myself up to him, that he may vent his full anger upon me; and I am happy in so doing, for by my death I shall have the joy of saving my father, and of proving my love for him." What would Father think if he knew that they had taken money for rowing a person ashore? Oh, dear! That had been wrong then. Johnny Blossom sat doubled together, scowling fiercely, as was his habit when he was worried about anything. That miserable five cents—why had they taken it?.
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