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They had safely reached Peter Rabbit's secretest retreat when Farmer Brown's boy came up to the edge of the dear Old Briar-patch. "So this is where that rabbit that killed our peach tree lives!" said he. "We'll try a few snares and put you out of mischief." And for the rest of the afternoon Farmer Brown's boy was very busy around the edge of the Old Briar-patch.
"How do you know Phil Morris is moving?" "Mr. Wall told me that, too." "Then the Wolf patrol elects a new leader," said Ritter. He glanced out toward where Tim Lally was catching. Andy's eyes puckered, and a swift change came over Bobbie Brown's face. The practice ended. Tim came across the grass with a big mitt under his arm. Ritter and Wally went forward to meet him.
Bengough said in a little poem published soon after Mr. Brown's death, "His nature was a rushing mountain stream; His faults but eddies which its swiftness bred." In his business as a journalist, he had not much of that philosophy which says that the daily difficulties of a newspaper are sure to solve themselves by the effluxion of time.
He knew that all his neighbors considered him rather timid, and many a time he had envied, actually envied Jimmy Skunk and Reddy Fox and Unc' Billy Possum and even Sammy Jay because they did such bold things and had dared to visit Farmer Brown's dooryard and henhouse in spite of Bowser the Hound. But now he felt that he dared do a thing that not one of them dared do.
Infinitudes of things, more or less damaged, they bore up to their shelter, up the stairs which here and there Stern had repaired with rough-hewn logs. For now he had an ax, found in that treasure-house of Currier & Brown's, brought to a sharp edge on a wet, flat stone by the spring, and hefted with a sapling. This implement was of incredible use, and greatly enheartened the engineer.
It would certainly be very nice to have the background shifted now and then; to see Capability Brown's prim gardens melt into Alpine heights or southern vineyards, or even into Russian steppes or Hungarian forests. One does get a little tired of toujours Bayswater; and Mr.
You see Bowser the Hound had given him such a scare that he didn't dare to. He sometimes came at night and sniffed hungrily at Johnny Chuck's doorway, but Johnny and Polly were safe inside, and this didn't trouble them a bit. And Farmer Brown's boy seemed to have forgotten all about the new house. So after a while Johnny Chuck stopped worrying so much.
She began to lean forward to assist herself, believing perhaps she could make more rapid headway in the latter position, at the same time finding fault with the girls for making fun of her. "Lean back!" came the warning shout from above and below. But the warning was not heeded in time. Margery Brown's feet slipped.
A little hint dropped there or here, Is like a seed in spring of year; It sprouts and grows, and none may say How big 'twill be some future day. Bowser the Hound. After leading Bowser the Hound far, far away and getting him lost in strange country, Old Man Coyote trotted back to the Old Pasture, the Green Forest, and the Green Meadows near Farmer Brown's.
Among them was a youth only seventeen years old named Rannal McKay, the son of a widow who was a refugee from Darien. Being told that her son was a prisoner in the hands of Brown, Widow McKay, providing herself with some refreshments that she thought might suit the taste of the British commander, went to Brown's headquarters, and begged that her son might be set free.
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