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Perched round the stem “He’s mean, he is. It’s mine!” “Do you think five cents is too dear?” asked Johnny in a businesslike manner..

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“Gee whiz!” ejaculated Bob. “This is worse than anything I’ve tackled before—ever!” "Sister," said the eldest one, "an idea has occurred to me: let us try to keep her here over the week. Her stupid old Beast will be enraged at her breaking her word, and perhaps he will devour her." "You are right, sister," replied the other; "to carry out our plan, we must appear very loving and kind to her." And having settled this, they went back to the house and were so affectionate to her, that Beauty cried for joy. When the week drew to a close, the two sisters showed such signs of grief at her departure, and made such lamentation, that she promised to stay till the end of the second one. Beauty, however, reproached herself for the sorrow she would cause her poor Beast, whom she loved with all her heart; and she began to miss him very much. On the tenth night of her absence, she dreamed that she was in the garden of the castle, and that she saw the Beast lying on the grass, apparently dying, and that he reproached her with her ingratitude. Beauty awoke with a start, and wept. "I am indeed wicked," she said, "to behave so ungratefully to a Beast who has been so considerate and kind to me! Is it his fault that he is ugly and that he is not clever? He is good, and that is worth everything else. Why did I refuse to marry him? I should be happier with him than my sisters are with their husbands. It is neither beauty nor wit in a husband which makes a wife happy; it is amiability of character, uprightness and generosity: and the Beast has all these good qualities. I do not love him, but I respect him, and I feel both affection for him, and gratitude. I will not make him unhappy; should I do so, I should reproach myself for it as long as I live." “I want to say thank you, sir, for such a day as this. I’m only a poor man, but I can say this much, Johnny Blossom can do many a good turn”— Oh, Bob, Bob! And he, who was heir of Kingthorpe, had abused the little horse! What would Uncle Isaac say if he knew? And now he could never ride horseback any more! Oh—oh—oh! He must go home and tell Mother. It was dreadful to do it, but he must, he must..