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Bob got up early in order to see the Canyon at sunrise the morning after Steve Whitney went away, but found that in comparison to the sunset it was tame. Yet so inspiring was it that he was glad he had taken the trouble. The panorama spread before his eyes was one of which no other country could boast. Bob had seen pictures of it, had read about it, and had been taught about it from his geography, but nothing that he had read or heard or learned had given him even a faint idea of the glory of the thing as it actually was, no matter what time of the day it was seen.,
The King, in the hope of preventing the misfortune foretold by the old fairy, immediately sent forth a proclamation forbidding everyone, on pain of death, either to spin with a spindle, or to have spindles in their possession.,
It was not of course the sort of life he had pictured. That had been rather a vague idea of khaki-clad figures, perched with their instruments on perilous peaks and over yawning chasms; and a general idea of romance had run through his dreams. To be put into an office to do sums was little better than going to school. That his drawing board faced a window below which the job spread out, was a help, for while his mind mechanically did the figuring that was necessary, he could imagine himself out on the work mingling with the crowd.,
“Yes, I tried once. I could do it well enough, too; but you should just see how cross that child is. She roars at nothing.”
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CHAPTER VI THE END OF THE LABYRINTH,
“May I ask whether it was you that took the boat-hook out of my sail-boat?”,
At length they reached the house where the candle was shining, not without many alarms, for often they lost sight of it altogether, and always when they went down into the hollows. They knocked loudly at the door, and a good woman came to open it. She asked them what they wanted. Little Thumbling told her they were poor children who had lost their way in the forest, and who begged a night's lodgings for charity's sake. The woman, seeing they were all so pretty, began to weep, and said to them, "Alas! my poor children, to what a place have you come! Know you not that this is the house of an ogre who eats little children?" "Alas!" replied Little Thumbling, who trembled from head to foot, as indeed did all his brothers, "what shall we do? We shall certainly be all eaten up by the wolves to-night, if you do not give us shelter, and, in that case, we would rather be eaten by the ogre; perhaps he may have pity upon us, if you are kind enough to ask him." The ogre's wife, who thought that she might be able to hide them from her husband till the next morning, let the children come in, and led them where they could warm themselves by a good fire, for there was a whole sheep on the spit, roasting for the ogre's supper.,
“I live over the hill there,” answered the other boy. “Dad’s a stock raiser. You can see the house from the river after you get down a little further. I sneaked away from my old man this morning to see if I could get a few fish. They aren’t biting very good here, though,” he concluded. “I wish I had a boat, because I know of a peach of a place—”
He ought to give twelve Christmas presents in all: to Father and Mother, three sisters, both the maids, Jeremias the wood-cutter, Uncle Isaac of Kingthorpe, Miss Melling (Uncle’s housekeeper), Miss Jorgensen, who stayed with them last summer, and Tellef, his special boy friend.
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On the following night, when the inhabitants of the castle were retired to rest, Hippolitus, whose expectation had lengthened the hours into ages, accompanied by Ferdinand, revisited the closet. Julia, who had known no interval of rest since they last left her, received them with much agitation. The vivid glow of health had fled her cheek, and was succeeded by a languid delicacy, less beautiful, but more interesting. To the eager enquiries of Hippolitus, she returned no answer, but faintly smiling through her tears, presented him her hand, and covered her face with her robe. 'I receive it,' cried he, 'as the pledge of my happiness;—yet—yet let your voice ratify the gift.' 'If the present concession does not sink me in your esteem,' said Julia, in a low tone, 'this hand is yours.'—'The concession, my love, (for by that tender name I may now call you) would, if possible, raise you in my esteem; but since that has been long incapable of addition, it can only heighten my opinion of myself, and increase my gratitude to you: gratitude which I will endeavour to shew by an anxious care of your happiness, and by the tender attentions of a whole life. From this blessed moment,' continued he, in a voice of rapture, 'permit me, in thought, to hail you as my wife. From this moment let me banish every vestige of sorrow;—let me dry those tears,' gently pressing her cheek with his lips, 'never to spring again.'—The gratitude and joy which Ferdinand expressed upon this occasion, united with the tenderness of Hippolitus to soothe the agitated spirits of Julia, and she gradually recovered her complacency.
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At length the tumult began to subside, and Hippolitus could distinguish what was said. The ruffians agreed to give up the lady in question to him who had fought for her; and leaving him to his prize, they all went out in quest of farther prey. The situation of the unfortunate lady excited a mixture of pity and indignation in Hippolitus, which for some time entirely occupied him; he revolved the means of extricating her from so deplorable a situation, and in these thoughts almost forgot his own danger. He now heard her sighs; and while his heart melted to the sounds, the farther door of the apartment was thrown open, and the wretch to whom she had been allotted, rushed in. Her screams now redoubled, but they were of no avail with the ruffian who had seized her in his arms; when the count, who was unarmed, insensible to every pulse but that of a generous pity, burst into the room, but became fixed like a statue when he beheld his Julia struggling in the grasp of the ruffian. On discovering Hippolitus, she made a sudden spring, and liberated herself; when, running to him, she sunk lifeless in his arms.
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>Aunt Grenertsen looked at them over her glasses.
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