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“The Labyrinth. It is only about sixty miles long. But in those sixty miles there are more rapids, and bad ones, than there are in all of the Grand Canyon. Well, I reckon there isn’t much chance of my ever tackling it.”,

“Trouble below, Billy!” gasped Bob as he came to the shed that protected the operator from the rays of the sun. “Need the Big Boss. He’s over at the spillway. Shoot me over?”,

“Wouldn’t be surprised if I did,” said Link with a smile. “I’m getting a little tired of cows now. If you really want to go, Jerry, I’ll start along with you any time.”,

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

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Johnny Blossom hastened to get Mother’s sharpest scissors—the big shiny ones—for he intended to cut some long strips of stout cloth to tie the goat’s legs with. Johnny cut and cut. Suddenly the big blades slipped, caught Johnny’s little finger, and before he knew it, had cut the tip of it clean off! It hurt awfully—oh, well—not so terribly after all; but my, oh, my! how it bled! Johnny Blossom bound his not over-clean handkerchief around it, but still the blood came. Now it was all over his trousers. Perhaps he had better hide until it stopped.,

When the King of the Peacocks' dinner hour arrived, there was nothing for him either in the saucepan or in the larder; his attendants looked askance at one another, and the King was in a terrible rage. "It seems, then, that I am to have no dinner; but see that the spit is put before the fire, and let me have some good roast meat this evening." The evening came, and the Princess said to Fretillon, "Go to the best kitchen in the town and bring me a joint of good roast meat." Fretillon obeyed, and knowing no better kitchen than that of the King, he went softly in, while the cooks' backs were turned, took the meat, which was of the best kind, from the spit, and carried it back in his basket to the Princess. She sent him back without delay to the larder, and he carried off all the preserves and sweetmeats that had been prepared for the King.,

“Gee whiz!” ejaculated Bob. “This is worse than anything I’ve tackled before—ever!”,

“But how would that hurt the Mexicans?”