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Billy put the basket down again. "Say, what did she want with all that hoarhound candy?" he asked curiously. "Yep, an' everythin' else is jest like you said, too, only the red streaks have gone from above the trees now." "Well, you might as well have both bowls then. I don't like to see good bread an' milk wasted.".
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Conrad
"A story of foolhardiness, madam, largely due to my difficulty in foreseeing issues." On this Captain Acton and his friend went on deck. The schooner was travelling three or four knots one way, and the stranger was heading directly for her at some small pace, so that the speed of the two vessels being combined, the sail might be expected to show a clear hull; which she did, and with the aid of their telescopes, Captain Acton and Sir William confirmed the conjecture of Captain Weaver. She was either a little brig or a brigantine—her after-sails were concealed; her burden was very small. The dusty and rusty complexion of her canvas neutralised the brilliance which most ships' sails shine with when the silver glory of the morning sun pours strong upon them. By half-past nine, three bells by the schooner's clock, the stranger was on the larboard-bow with her main topsail to the mast, and so close that it seemed almost possible to distinguish the faces of her people. From the bottom of his heart he wished that he had never seen the place, never encountered the spirit of its woods-born. He knew his capabilities and for once in his life, he confessed to himself, he had over-estimated them. He wanted to give this boy now standing so fearlessly before him a whipping such as he would remember to his dying day, but to save his life he couldn't enter into the task with his old-time zest—not with those clear eyes looking so contemptuously into his very soul. "'Course it's a lot too much. S'pose we try on' get hold of some of it, Bill?".
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