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“I see,” cried Bob joyously. “We’ll take ’em and surround the Greasers. Then shoot off the guns and scare ’em off! That it?” “What’s the matter with your life?” he asked quickly. “I’d want nothing better. To be with the Reclamation Service and to have Mr. Whitney for a boss seems pretty good to me!” Soon after this plan was made, all the household went out to Kingthorpe one day—Father, Mother, Asta, Andrea, Dagny, and Johnny Blossom, of course, and the two maids..
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Father and Mother looked at the report. “Very good, John,” said Father; and Johnny felt Mother’s gentle hand stroking his hair. “So? You surprise me. But wherever you were, I bet you were in mischief. Just from the look of you two, I can see that you were up to some devilment. Besides, you’re almost boiling over with the desire to tell me about it. Come on, out with it.” Indeed he wasn’t a rascal. The whole thing had just happened of itself. It was no plan of his, but it was just as unlucky as if it had been. "Her memory is dear to me as ever," said the King, unable to prevent the falling of a tear or two; "but you must know, kind frog, that kings are not always able to do what they wish; for the last nine years, my subjects have been urging me to marry; I owe them an heir to the throne, and I have therefore chosen this young Princess, who appears to me all that is charming." "I advise you not to marry her, for the Queen is not dead; I bring you a letter from her, written with her own blood. A little daughter, Moufette, has been born to you, more beautiful than the heavens themselves." The King took the rag, on which the Queen had scrawled a few words; he kissed it, he bathed it in his tears, he showed it to the whole assembly, saying that he recognised his wife's handwriting; he asked the Frog a thousand questions, which she answered with vivacity and intelligence..
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