morning matka

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He looked in again.,

Around her car the pensive Hours,,

Sheltered about,

She had no sooner taken hold of the spindle, than, being very hasty, and rather thoughtless, and moreover, the fairies having ordained that it should be so, she pierced her hand with the point of it, and fainted away. The poor old woman was in great distress, and called for help. People came running from all quarters; they threw water in the Princess's face, they unlaced her dress, they slapped her hands, they rubbed her temples with Queen of Hungary's water, but nothing would bring her to. The King, who had run upstairs at the noise, then remembered the prediction of the fairies, and wisely concluded that this accident must have happened as the fairies had said it would. He ordered the Princess to be carried into a beautiful room of the palace, and laid on a bed embroidered with silver and gold. One might have thought it was an angel lying there, so lovely did she look, for the rich colours of her complexion had not faded in her swoon; her cheeks were still rosy, and her lips like coral. Only, her eyes were closed, but they could hear her breathing softly, which showed that she was not dead.

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But Bob was too much in earnest to take the last remark seriously. He laughed. “Oh, I’m a tenderfoot all right but I know something about paddling a canoe. Had a lot of it last summer and I can swim. And if it is not too expensive, I’ve got the money. Any other objections?”,

It was not long, however, before their strong constitutions asserted themselves. Soon both boys were able to sit up and take stock of what damage had been done. Jerry was first on his feet, pale and a little shaky, but again master of himself.,

Bob got up early in order to see the Canyon at sunrise the morning after Steve Whitney went away, but found that in comparison to the sunset it was tame. Yet so inspiring was it that he was glad he had taken the trouble. The panorama spread before his eyes was one of which no other country could boast. Bob had seen pictures of it, had read about it, and had been taught about it from his geography, but nothing that he had read or heard or learned had given him even a faint idea of the glory of the thing as it actually was, no matter what time of the day it was seen.,

“Well, you are early enough I hope. I want to say this much, Johnny Blossom, that I won’t have it on my conscience that you should eat any half-rotten apples—and there are usually a good many half-rotten of this kind—but those that are cracked or bruised you may have, for they won’t keep anyway.”