When at last the sun dropped below the edge of the distant hills, leaving the Canyon in deep purple shadow, Bob turned to Mr. Whitney.,
JOHNNY BLOSSOM was entirely at a loss. Here it was the best part of the vacation and not a bit of fun going on. It rained nearly every day—such disgustingly long showers that if they did ever hold up, it was too sopping wet in the grass and everywhere to do anything. Besides the wind blew very hard, but that was rather pleasant, there was so much you could do when there was a good wind—fly kites, for instance.,
I would hint, those who marry in haste.
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