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We'll just leave word, in case Ozma inquires for us, that we'll be back in a few days." The Forest of Gugu In the central western part of the Gillikin Country is a great tangle of trees called Gugu Forest. It is the biggest forest in all Oz and stretches miles and miles in every direction north, south, east and west.

"Have you not," she inquires, fretting her jewelled fingers and displaying the massive gold bracelets that clasp her wrists, "some stronger evidence of her death?" Mr. Snivel says he has none but what he gathered from the negroes and poor mechanics, who live in the by-lanes of the city. There is little dependence, however, to be placed in such reports.

Edward Dowden, in a sonnet, Wise Passiveness, says this plainly: Think you I choose or that or this to sing? I lie as patient as yon wealthy stream Dreaming among green fields its summer dream, Which takes whate'er the gracious hours will bring Into its quiet bosom. To the same effect is a somewhat prosaic poem, Accident in Art, by Richard Hovey. He inquires,

Who ever inquires what manner of youths they were; and whether they slept with Jesus, played with him and romped about him; quarreled with him concerning toys and trifles; struck him in anger, not suspecting what he was? Who ever wonders what they thought when they saw him come back to Nazareth a celebrity, and looked long at his unfamiliar face to make sure, and then said, "It is Jesus?"

He, too, when he comes to make up his account, when he brings his hunting to book and inquires whether his whistle has been worth its price, is driven to declare that vanity and vexation of spirit have been the prevailing characteristics of his hunting life. On how many evenings has he returned contented with his sport? How many days has he declared to have been utterly wasted?

He was absent, when, on the third morning, Henriette came hastily into my room. "Madame," she said, "the <valet de chambre> of the king is in the drawing-room, and inquires if you will receive him." At this news I was surprised and vexed. M. Lebel took me unawares; my toilette was not begun.

The young Missionary answers in the negative by shaking his head, while the kind old sailor continues to fuss over and prepare Tom for his departure. "Tom is about to leave us," says the old sailor, by way of diverting the vote-cribber's attention. That dignitary, so much esteemed by our fine old statesmen, turns to Tom, and inquires if he has a vote.

He inquires concerning the talent of a writer rather than concerning his point of view; and in determining whether a work is good or bad, it matters little to him upon what ideas it is based, or in what sort of mind it germinated. One seldom inspects the cellars of a house after visiting its salons, and when one eats the fruit of a tree, one cares but little about its root.

They were staying at the farm, and the day before they had all been up to Valley Forge, and climbed up the hill and down again. In the early morning both of the young men had gone down to the city. "Do you think it really can influence anyone?" she inquires with charming gravity. "Then I should suppose a person born in July, under scorching suns, would be fiery-tempered."

"Why not?" inquires Corkey. "You bet your sweet life you tell me what your name is!" "N-n-n-noah!" "Why not? Tell me that!" "M-m-my name is N-n-noah!" exclaims the boy. "Ho! ho!" laughs Corkey. "Let's see them fingers! Got any more in your pockets?" "N-n-n-noah," answers the boy. "Got six toes, too?" "Y-y-yes, sah!" "A dead mascot!" says Corkey. It is an auspice of the most eminent fortune.