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“Dear Godfather: A thousand thanks for the fishing rod. I am so happy. It catches everything splendidly. This afternoon I am going to fish in the bay. If you have a pain in your heart, just rub yourself with kerosene, Jeremias the wood-cutter says. He smells like a lamp, but he is well now and walks out with a stick. It’s nothing if you do smell if you can only be well.”,
It was the cunningest goat you ever saw, lively but good, and so pretty—light gray, with a little beard. Mother had bought it early in the spring. On Sundays it had a blue ribbon around its neck, and other days a red worsted collar with a white button. It was a great pet.,
At last he was about to get up and go home when he saw a figure dodging from shadow to shadow and making up the hill in the general direction of his position.,
Oh, dear! Aunt Grenertsen wasn’t comfortable to deal with—not a bit easy in fact—and never had been.
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“How old are you now, Bob? Seventeen, isn’t it? Yes, yes, of course. And in a week or two you will have finished with Crossways for good?”,
Feather-in-the-Wind knew it to be the only plan and started off with long running leaps, keeping himself well hidden from the Mexican. There was just a chance that he could get to the camp and back before Miguel could complete his dastardly work.,
It did not take the Wolf long to reach the grandmother's house; he knocked: tap, tap.,
The wedding was hardly over before the stepmother's ill-humour broke out. She could not endure the young girl, whose good qualities made her own daughters appear still more detestable. She put her to do all the most menial work in the house. It was she who washed up the plates and dishes, and cleaned the stairs; who scrubbed the stepmother's room, and those of her daughters. She slept in a garret at the top of the house, on a wretched straw mattress, while her sisters occupied rooms with inlaid floors, and had the latest fashioned beds, and mirrors in which they could see themselves from head to foot. The poor girl bore everything with patience, and did not dare complain to her father, who would only have scolded her, as he was entirely governed by his wife. When she had done her work, she was in the habit of going into the chimney-corner and sitting down amongst the cinders, which caused her to be nicknamed Cindertail by the household in general. The second daughter, however, who was not quite so rude as her sister, called her Cinderella. Nevertheless, Cinderella in her shabby clothes, still looked a thousand times more beautiful than her sisters, although so magnificently dressed.
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Developer Response,
When he thought it was safe, Bob dropped off the ladder and for a moment or so sat quietly, fully occupied in nursing his cramped limbs back to some degree of usefulness. Then, having given the Mexican plenty of time to reach the bottom of the hill, Bob followed, his mind busy with the new angle of the situation chance had laid before him.
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kwxoe-Wong,
It’s a Quan-Yuan
She revived. 'My son!' said she, in a languid voice, as she pressed him to her heart. 'Great God, I am recompensed! Surely this moment may repay a life of misery!' He could only receive her caresses in silence; but the sudden tears which started in his eyes spoke a language too expressive to be misunderstood.
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Bingbing-Li
Everything was prepared for this great sacrifice; nothing so mournful had before been seen; nothing to be met anywhere but black garments, and pale and horrified faces. Four hundred maidens of the highest rank, dressed in long white robes, and crowned with cypress, accompanied the Princess, who was carried in an open litter of black velvet, that all might look on this masterpiece of beauty. Her hair, tied with crape, hung over her shoulders, and she wore a crown of jasmine, mingled with a few marigolds. The grief of the King and Queen, who followed, overcome by their deep sorrow, appeared the only thing that moved her. The giant, armed from head to foot, marched beside the litter, and looked with hungry eye at the Princess, as if anticipating his share of her when she came to be eaten; the air resounded with sighs and sobs, and the road was flooded with the tears of the onlookers.
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Halin-Chen Response,
>"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.
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