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“What is it?” demanded the boy. “Pooh! He thought we would drown,” said Asta. “Silly!” No one was in the sitting room at home, nor in the library; but from Mother’s room there came a sound as of some one crying. Johnny Blossom tramped in. There lay Mother on the couch, and Father sat by her side, and they were both sobbing as hard as they could..

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Well! Here lay Uncle Isaac with the green silk eiderdown puff, with the servant in livery always carrying a silver tray; and there lay Jeremias the wood-cutter on his blue homespun pillow, with the wind howling at his very bedside—and both of them said that there was balm in those words! Johnny Blossom thought it was very queer. “‘Goodwill of Luckton,’ of course.” After his coat, Bob ripped off his flannel shirt and tore it down a seam. Then, with the greatest care, he began to unravel the threads that made up the fabric. The loose threads would burn when the cloth itself would only go out. Before he had a pile of threads that he felt would be sufficient for his purpose, his fingers ached and his nails were bleeding. At last the start was made and after a walk of about a quarter of a mile along the rim the party came to the head of the Bright Angel Trail which led to the bottom. At first the going was fairly easy, but soon the trail grew steeper and steeper and Bob was amazed to see the calm way in which the little donkeys kept their footing, particularly when they were carrying large and heavy human beings. Owing to the immense zigzags that the trail had to take in order to provide a safe path, a lot of ground had to be covered. Therefore it was not until almost noon that the party reached the first plateau. This “plateau” is in reality far from flat. It is merely a slight leveling out of the general declivity about two-thirds of the way down..