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So many days had passed during which Bob’s one desire had been to unload his troubles on his Chief that he was not at all embarrassed when he found he had to tell his tale before so many witnesses. He started in and until he reached the episode of Miguel’s attempt to blow up the coffer dam he spoke steadily and clearly. At this point, however, when it was necessary to tell of the part he had taken in the adventure, he began to stammer and hesitate. Feather-in-the-Wind broke in to help him out and in his short, broken sentences vividly pictured for the listeners the plucky deed that had been done to save the dam. Jerry recognized the type at once. It was a desert rat, one of those old men who, lured by the dream of gold, haunt the desert, usually alone. Years pass over their heads in the search which never ends. At last the gold mine that they will find some day becomes merely the excuse not the aim of the unending pilgrimage. The desert, the loneliness is claiming them. If they found a mine worth the developing, probably they would sell it and blow in the proceeds and be off again as soon as possible. They have been too long away from civilization for anything to surprise them. The desert is mysterious, the loneliness makes everything possible. As soon as they were settled in their country house, the merchant and his sons began to till the ground. Beauty rose every morning at four o'clock, and made haste to clean the house and prepare the dinner. She found her duties very painful and fatiguing at first, for she had not been accustomed to do the work of a servant; but in two months' time she had grown stronger, and the activity of her life gave her fresh health and colour. When her day's work was over, she amused herself with reading, or music; sometimes she sat down to her wheel, and sang to her spinning. Meanwhile her two sisters were wearied to death with the dulness of their life; they stayed in bed till ten o'clock, did nothing all day but saunter about, and for their only diversion talked with regret of their former fine clothes and friends. "Look at our young sister," they said to one another; "she is so low-minded and stupid, that she is quite content with her miserable condition.".
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Conrad
“You’re not far off,” said Jerry, laughing. “But even if we’ve got to swim we won’t have to carry all our junk. Have you thought what a bully raft our air mattress will make?” He was just sick and tired of seeing those apples in that good-for-nothing garden. Good-for-nothing it certainly was, and very, very old. There was only one apple tree besides the one Johnny was so interested in, but its fruit could scarcely be called apples at all. He would call them croquet balls—such hard green things as they were—hard as rocks. Of course if any of them were on the ground, he bit into them. In fact, he had eaten a good many of them first and last, but they were horrid things, anyway. “Why?” flashed Bob, quick to take advantage of Jerry’s loosened lips. Yield to peace the mourning day!.
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