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But, truly, I do not care for anything to eat," Mona returned, as she arose and followed him to a cozy nook, where the draperies would partially conceal them from observation. "I do, my brown-eyed lassie," Ray responded, emphatically; "after the violent exercise of the last two hours I am quite sure my inner man needs replenishing.

There were bunks along the wall of the guest-room, with plenty of blankets. There was good store of eggs, canned meats, and nourishing black bread. The friendly goats came bleating up to the door at nightfall to be milked. And in charge of all this luxury there was a cheerful peasant-wife with her brown-eyed daughter, to entertain travellers.

He was a peasant boy, little Petter Nord. He was short and round; he was brown-eyed and smiling. His hair was paler than birch leaves in the autumn; his cheeks were red and downy. And he was from Värmland. No one, seeing him, could imagine that he was from any other place. His native land had equipped him with its excellent qualities.

All the while he was thinking of the brown-eyed girl in the russet robe. Still, it is true that, brown-eyed girl or no, he read Iduna aright. Moreover, if Ragnar did not like Iduna, from the first Iduna hated Ragnar.

And so when the orchestra began he started away, a very heart-broken, brown-eyed, olive-skinned little Welshman, who barely touched the finger-tips of a radiant, overdeveloped blonde with roses in her cheeks and moonlight in her hair. She would have come closer to him but he danced away and only hunted for her soul with his brown Celtic eyes.

"Why, it's a cow," she cried, "a beautiful little brown-eyed cow." Terry barked again, and then a voice outside the hedge said: "Yes, and I've just bought her." "Launcelot," screamed both of the girls, delightedly, and opened the gate wide.

"And why does his Majesty give her things made of gold?" "To pay her," answered Mistress Rebecca, looking thoughtfully out of the window. "For what?" the young Marquess asked. "For for that an honest woman should not take pay for." "Then why does he love her? Is he a bad King?" his voice lowering as he said it and his brown-eyed, ruddy little face grown solemn.

The girl nodded. "But I shall take a tram at the end of the street," she said, rising. Mr. Jobling rose too, and all that he had ever heard or read about etiquette came crowding into his mind. A weekly journal patronized by his wife had three columns regularly, but he taxed his memory in vain for any instructions concerning brown-eyed strangers with sprained ankles.

But there was tall, graceful, pink-and-white Bertha Buckolt, blue-eyed and blue-black-haired, and little Mary Carey with the kind, grey eyes and red-gold hair; there was Mary's wild brother Jim, with curly black hair and blue eyes and dimples of innocence; and there was Harry Dale, the drover, Jim's shearing and droving mate, a tall, good-looking, brown-eyed and brown-haired young fellow, a "better-class" bushman and the best dancer in the district.

Two young men and a young girl. One young man is broad and powerful though short, with an incipient moustache and a fluff of whisker. The other is rather tall, slim, and gentlemanly, and still beardless. The girl is little, neat, well-made, at the budding period of life, brown-haired, brown-eyed, round, soft just such a creature as one feels disposed to pat on the head and say, "My little pet!"