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"They have turned back again," said the Strawberry, pointing to the former footmarks; "see the track of the mocassins is both ways." "That's true," said Malachi, after a close examination; "now then, Strawberry, to find out where they have left the old trail again. I told you, sir," continued Malachi to Alfred, "that the Strawberry would be useful; she has the eye of a falcon."

"And those syrups of fruit, the strawberry, the greengage! And the omelettes of Jeanne, 'Jeanne la Grande," he flung forth his arms to indicate the breadth of the cook. "And the evenings of moonlight, when we wandered between the passion-flowers!" He blew a kiss. "Shall I forget them? Never!" Madame Sennier was evidently quite undisturbed. "You've given him a good time," she observed.

He would probably be doing his best to keep his eyes off the strawberry mark. But I shouldn't think so, for I should be in that unhealthy condition of mind in which the whole world would seem to revolve around my strawberry mark. And so with the small man.

"Well; but Malachi, are we to let this be known to anybody, or keep it a secret?" "Well, sir, I've thought of that; we must only let Martin and the Strawberry into the secret; and I would tell them, because they are almost Indians, as it were; they may have someone coming to them, and there's no fear of their telling.

This takes place early in the spring, when the forest trees first begin to show their buds; the long, withy ends of the branches to turn green; when the wild strawberry, and other herbage of the sheltered woodlands, put forth their tender and tinted leaves; and the daisy and the primrose peep from under the hedges.

The pseudo-Gothic revival, of which Knebworth is a late monument, but which was inaugurated by Horace Walpole in the stucco of Strawberry Hill, is, if judged by the strict canons of architectural taste, absurd, but as time goes on and the taste which produced it vanishes the houses in which it embodied itself cease to be mere absurdities. They acquire the rank and dignity of historical documents.

Not a step was to be heard upon the road, not a sound of any kind, save the strong east wind rushing past the cottage and losing itself among the withered oaks of the park opposite. Suddenly a deep and bell-mouthed note resounded through the air. Strawberry started in the shafts and trembled violently. "Stamboul! Stamboul!" The squire's ringing voice was heard far up the park.

He thought he saw the figure of someone in his strawberry patch. He laid aside the book, got his whip and hurried forth to see. It was Panchita. She had slipped through the picket fence and was half-way across the patch. She stopped when she saw him and looked at him without wavering. A sudden rage a humiliating flush of unreasoning wrath came over Dry Valley.

Nevertheless, the earth as God created it is a fair dwelling and full of comfort for all who have a quiet mind and a thankful heart. Doubtless God might have made a better world, but doubtless this is the world He made for us; and in it He planted the strawberry." Fine old doctor! Brave philosopher of cheerfulness!

"I'll have two, nice, big, cold strawberry ice cream cones, and please put plenty of ice cream in them," said Uncle Wiggily to the man. "Right you are!" cried the ice-cream-man in a jolly voice, and, say, I just wish you could have seen those cones! They were piled up heaping full of ice cream. Oh, my! It just makes me hungry to write about them.