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Johnny Blossom could think of nothing more to write about, though he stared long and hard at the walls. His examination report? No, he would not write about that, for there were some 9’s for conduct and some marks for lessons that were not as high as one might wish. No, there was not an atom more to write. So the letter was signed:,

“What did Mother say?”,

“Yes, Miguel very much strong. Greasers grumble but do what he say.”,

Johnny Blossom looked up wistfully but dubiously. Probably he was too dirty.

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“I thank you, sir,” said Grandmother. “I thank you, sir.”,

Johnny Blossom went on to Jeremias the wood-cutter’s. The wind blew straight into the room the minute the door was opened, and Jeremias groaned. He looked awfully old today. Very gray indeed was his stubby beard and very dull were his eyes as he lay there on his blue pillow.,

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.,

“I didn’t know what I’d let myself in for. If anything, my life was a lot worse than it’d been before. The Denver Kid was the name of the man who had picked me up and I soon learned that he was a tramp—a hobo. All first class hoboes get boys who go along with them and on whom fall all the hard work. Their pay is in kicks and beatings. And I got my share of both. I found the country to be as he said it was, but we saw very little of it, for the Kid didn’t like walking. He stayed close to the railroad and I saw most of the country from a crack in the door of a box car, or through the flying sand thrown up over us as we clung to a rattling brake-beam.