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"The old woman ain't got any piany that I knows on. Olaf, he has a grand. His wife's musical: took lessons in Chicago." "I'm going up there tomorrow," said Nils imperturbably. He saw that the driver took him for a piano tuner. "Oh, I see!" The old man screwed up his eyes mysteriously. He was a little dashed by the stranger's noncommunicativeness, but he soon broke out again.
It was small consolation for Nils to know that there was no watch but only a key attached to it; for a silver watch-chain, even without a watch, was a sufficiently splendid possession to justify a boy in fording it over his less fortunate comrades.
While it was still upon him, he fancied he heard a hideous yell from the other boat; but when it was over, his wife, who sat by the shrouds, said, with a voice which pierced his very soul: "Good God, Elias! the sea has carried off Martha and Nils!" their two youngest children, the first nine, the second seven years old, who had been sitting in the hold near Bernt.
"I thank you all the same for your kind intention, but you can't help me." "Oh, can't I?" said Gorgo. "We'll see about that!" In a twinkling he grasped Nils Holgersson in his big talons, and rose with him toward the skies, disappearing in a northerly direction. Wednesday, June fifteenth. The eagle kept on flying until he was a long distance north of Stockholm.
Clara, in her riding habit, was standing at the back door of the house, under the grapevine trellis that old Joe had grown there long ago. Nils rose. "Come out and keep your father and me company. We've been gossiping all afternoon. Nobody to bother us but the flies." She shook her head. "No, I never come out here any more. Olaf doesn't like it. I must live up to my position, you know."
"Now I'll come down, too," said the schoolmistress, and she came down the rope as if she were in a gymnasium. She took her place in the centre of her boat, with two delighted children before her and two more behind her. "Cut loose, Nils! One rope as long as you can, and the other short up to the stern; and then give me your knife, and I'll do the same for mine. Now start, Nils! I'll follow."
The turf discharged, there was the opportunity of getting drunk; and the horses of both waggons were driven hard down a slope in the road by their drunken drivers, and coming in contact, Nils Rasmussen was thrown out, and the waggon fell on him, whilst the struggling of the horses every moment increased the serious injuries he was receiving.
In a presentation of a purely physical attractiveness; Nils Lykke is simply a voluptuary, pursuing his good fortunes, with impudent ease, in the home of his ancestral enemies. In his hands, and not in his only, the majestic Inger is reduced from a queen to a pawn.
C. M. Wrangel, who was provost from 1759 to 1768, assisted in rejuvenating the Pennsylvania Synod in 1760, and began a seminary with Peter Muhlenberg, Daniel Kuhn, and Christian Streit as students; Nils Collin, whose activity extended from 1770 to 1831, during which time he had eight Episcopalian assistant pastors in succession. Church-fellowship with Episcopalians.
But Nils was not easily dismayed; he came straight in with his horses, though it was in the middle of a working spell. If only I could hold the Captain here a bit while he got in! Nils realizes there is no time to be lost he is already unfastening the harness on the way. Suddenly the Captain looks at me, and asks: "Well, have you lost your tongue?" "'Twas Nils," I answer then.
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