Our Young Folks, Volume 9

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Ticknor and Fields, 1873
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Page 720 - If barley be wanting to make into malt, We must be contented and think it no fault ; For we can make liquor to sweeten our lips Of pumpkins and parsnips and walnut-tree chips.
Page 315 - I lie Cold, dead, and dumb to all the world contains, The folded orbs would open at thy breath, And, from its exile in the isles of death, Life would come gladly back along my veins.
Page 151 - He read every book he could lay his hands on, and when he came across a passage that struck him, he would write it down on boards if he had no paper, and keep it there until he did get paper. Then he would rewrite it, look at it, repeat it. He had a copybook, a kind of scrapbook, in which he put down all things, and thus preserved them.
Page 639 - For sale by all Booksellers. Sent, post-paid, on receipt of price by the Publishers, JAMES R. OSGOOD & CO,, Boston, iini l\i $ * -m NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE.
Page 347 - Uncle Dick stooped down again as he ceased to speak, and Rolf, disturbed by the silence, raised his head to look about him. As his master had said, it was a grand old head still, though the eyes were growing dim now with age.
Page 347 - I got him and myself together upon the horse's back, and we began our ride. There was a village about four or five miles off, and I made for that.
Page 346 - You know that I had my gun close at hand, and in the whole course of my life I never was so glad to have my gun beside me. It was loaded, too, and a revolver. I caught it up and fired into the water. I fired three times and two of the shots went into the brute's head. " One missed him, and the first seemed not to harm him much, but the third hit him in some vital place, I hope, — some sensitive place, at any rate, for the hideous jaws started wide. " Then I began with all my might to shout out...
Page 346 - I began with all my might to shout out ' Rolf ! ' I could n't leave my post, for the brute, though he had let Rolf go and had dived for a moment, might make another spring, and I did n't dare to take my eyes off the spot where he had gone down.
Page 280 - you rascal ram, To pick a fight with me, when I So quietly am passing by ! Your head or mine !" A thundering stroke : The cracking horns met crashing oak ! Then came a dull and muffled sound, And something rolled along the ground, Got up, looked sad, appeared to say: " Your head's too hard ! " and limped away Quite humbly, in a rumpled coat — A dirtier and a wiser goat ! JOHN TOWNSEND TROWBRIDGE.
Page 175 - ... which overhung a brook to hide out of sight and to look about. He lay along a branch listening, and presently saw Nathaniel hurrying toward the brook, leading little Polly, and was just going to call out when he caught sight of three Indians standing behind some trees, watching the two children. 15. Philip moved a little to see better, and by doing this lost sight of them a moment, and when he looked again they were both gone. He heard a crackling in the bushes, and caught sight of little Polly's...

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