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"Won't you step in?" asked Mrs. Mudge with unusual politeness. "No, I believe not." Paul was accordingly sent out. He was very glad to meet his schoolmate and playfellow, Ben, who by his gayety, spiced though it was with roguery, had made himself a general favorite in school. "I say, Paul," said Ben, "I'm sorry to find you in such a place." "It isn't very pleasant," said Paul, rather soberly.
They were in danger, they were in danger, Captain Everard and Lady Bradeen: it beat every novel in the shop. She thought of Mr. Mudge and his safe sentiment; she thought of herself and blushed even more for her tepid response to it. It was a comfort to her at such moments to feel that in another relation a relation supplying that affinity with her nature that Mr.
On looking about for Pullingo, to get him to accompany us, we found that he had disappeared; but in what direction he had gone no one could tell. "We can do very well without him," observed Mudge; "only we must take care not to lose our way." My father offered to lend us his compass, charging us to be very careful.
"Wait a bit, my lad, till we're rounding Cape Horn; you'll then chance to pick up a notion of what a heavy sea is like, if you don't happen to learn sooner," said Peter Mudge.
Mudge in a louder tone, "it's time to get up; tumble out there." Again there was no answer. At first, Mr. Mudge thought it might be in consequence of Paul's sleeping so soundly, but on listening attentively, he could not distinguish the deep and regular breathing which usually accompanies such slumber. "He must be sullen," he concluded, with a feeling of irritation. "If he is, I'll teach him "
However, even the small amount of food we had taken somewhat restored our strength, and I felt that I could hold out another day if water could be obtained; but there was no prospect of rain the only source from whence it could be derived. "If a bird would just tumble into the boat, it would give us meat and drink," observed Mudge. "We must hope for that, since no rain is likely to come."
It was reported that on one occasion a beggar, apparently famishing with hunger, not knowing the character of the house, made application at the door for food. In an unusual fit of generosity, Mrs. Mudge furnished him with a slice of bread and a bowl of soup, which, however, proved so far from tempting that the beggar, hungry as he was, left them almost untouched.
Mudge, somewhat surprised, advanced toward him to enforce the command. Even he was startled at the unusual paleness of Paul's face, and inquired in a less peremptory tone, "what's the matter?" "I feel sick," gasped Paul. Without another word, Mr. Mudge took Paul up in his arms and carried him into the house. "What's the matter, now?" asked his wife, meeting him at the door.
In his own singleness of heart he could not believe such duplicity possible. Still, it was not without anxiety that he waited to hear what would be said next. "Well," said Mr. Mudge, slowly, "I don't know but he is a little PEAKED. He's been sick lately, and that's took off his flesh." "Was he your son?" asked John, in a sympathizing tone; "you must feel quite troubled about him."
In this reference, although a translation was given in the American argument, it was not as quoted by Messrs. Featherstonhaugh and Mudge, but was in the words which have already been cited. Connected with this subject, although, like it, wholly irrelevant, is another conclusion which Messrs. Mudge and Featherstonhaugh attempt to draw from the same grant to Sir William Alexander.
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