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Even the great big boys of the Fourth Class came. Otto Holm himself, who wore a stiff hat and carried a cane, sat and waited to see him, little Johnny Blossom! By and by it came about that they asked if they might not ride, just a little way—Otto Holm and Peter Prytz and Gunnar Olsen, and it was too embarrassing to say no to such great big fellows. Through the still air I mark each solemn pause, “Why don’t they shoot?” he thought. Hardly had the thought flashed through his brain when a bullet whistled by him. Then came another and another..
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kez_ h (Kez_h)
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Conrad
That afternoon Johnny Blossom sat crouched on the stone steps leading to the road. The fishing rod lay beside him, but he did not feel like going fishing. He sat with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, thinking of Uncle Isaac. It might easily be that just now, this minute, Uncle Isaac stood outside that great golden gate—the gate that leads into Paradise—and knocked on it. To think that God can hear a man’s little knock. Why, that gate is surely as big as—yes, as the tallest pine tree over there, and all of gleaming gold; and God looks and throws the gate wide open of course, for he sees it is Uncle Isaac. And so Uncle Isaac goes into the Kingdom of Heaven. “Why—why of course not. Why of—of course it isn’t true. I—I don’t know what you mean. I—I—” RIQUET WITH THE TUFT But a sweet temper is a gift more fair.
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