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Everybody looked at Johnny Blossom. Awfully embarrassing to have them stare so! But later Johnny sat on the top of the hill and sang, “Yes we love our grand old Norway,” with the greatest enthusiasm, he was so overflowing with joy.,

Conversation may be divided into two classes—the familiar and the sentimental. It is the province of the familiar, to diffuse cheerfulness and ease—to open the heart of man to man, and to beam a temperate sunshine upon the mind.—Nature and art must conspire to render us susceptible of the charms, and to qualify us for the practice of the second class of conversation, here termed sentimental, and in which Madame de Menon particularly excelled. To good sense, lively feeling, and natural delicacy of taste, must be united an expansion of mind, and a refinement of thought, which is the result of high cultivation. To render this sort of conversation irresistibly attractive, a knowledge of the world is requisite, and that enchanting case, that elegance of manner, which is to be acquired only by frequenting the higher circles of polished life. In sentimental conversation, subjects interesting to the heart, and to the imagination, are brought forward; they are discussed in a kind of sportive way, with animation and refinement, and are never continued longer than politeness allows. Here fancy flourishes,—the sensibilities expand—and wit, guided by delicacy and embellished by taste—points to the heart.,

“I catch him. Not catch any other—Mexican.” The way the Indian said the last word showed the contempt he felt for the boy who had sold out his friends.,

“Oh, very well.”

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Mother planned everything for the party. There should be long tables in the park, where the feast should be spread for the children and most of the grown-up people; but the old and feeble ones whom Johnny invited should have their feast in the beautiful dining room that had angels painted on the ceiling. A band of music was to come from the city. There were to be flags and colored lanterns the entire length of the shady avenue, and when daylight faded and the park began to grow dusky, there would be fireworks—yes, fireworks as true as you live! Mother said so.,

But my, oh, my! There was the sun. Johnny Blossom shouted “Asta” everywhere through the house, for now there was a chance for them to realize a certain plan that he had made. Since he could not carry it out alone, he would make use of Asta, even if she were only a girl, poor thing!,

"It is your grand-daughter, Little Red Riding-Hood," answered the Wolf, imitating the child's voice. "I have brought a cake and a little jar of butter, which my mother has sent you." The good grandmother, who was ill in bed, called out, "Pull the bobbin, and the latch will go up." The Wolf pulled the bobbin, and the door opened. He leaped on to the poor old woman, and ate her up in less than no time, for he had been three days without food. He then shut the door again, and laid himself down in the grandmother's bed, to wait for Little Red Riding-Hood. Presently she came and knocked at the door: tap, tap.,

“Some presents will go over to your house this evening,” said Uncle Isaac when he said good-by.