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The men climbed high into the tree, and then hung on to the trunk with iron clamps on their feet, with points which stuck into the bark, and apparently gave them a perfectly secure hold, but it looked dangerous to see them swinging off from the trunk with a sort of axe in their hands, cutting off the branches with a swift, sharp stroke.
One day while a Lion was eating his dinner a bone stuck in his throat. It hurt so that he could not finish his dinner. He walked up and down, up and down, roaring with pain. A Woodpecker lit on a branch of a tree near-by, and hearing the Lion, she said, "Friend, what ails you?"
"Well, I'm kind of stuck on pressing the button myself," Stone confessed, adjusting the focus. "But if you want to work that flashlight, I don't mind." "Delighted," Mr. Blensop asserted. "How does it go, now?" "Like this." Stone set his camera down to demonstrate. "Now just stand behind me," he concluded, "and pull the trigger when I say 'now'." "I'll do my best, but I say will it bang?"
But Bawr strode forward, thrust the old men aside, hacked himself off a generous collop, stuck it on his spear-head, and thrust it into the fire. In his impatience, Bawr kept pulling the roast out every minute or two, to taste it and see if it was done enough.
I went back to camp and stuck to work for the rest of that week until some of the boys told me that they had seen the Kings' guests scooting across the prairie in the big touring-car of Weaver's, evidently headed for Helena.
"If you're stuck on kiddies, like me, it don't worry you nuthin'. Kind of makes it pleasant thinkin' how you can fix things fer 'em, don't it? But it sure ain't easy doing things just right. That's how I mean. An' don't it make you feel good when you do fix things right fer 'em? But I don't guess that comes often, though," he added, with a sigh. "Y'see, I'm kind of awkward.
I stood up in the buckboard and saw that it was a story and a half high, and could have had four or five rooms in it. The bare, curtainless windows were set in the unpainted frames, but the front door seemed not to be hung yet. The people meant to winter there, however, for the sod was banked up against the wooden underpinning; a stovepipe stuck out of the roof of a little wing behind.
It seemed to be inhabited principally by soldiers and bagmen; at least, these were all that we saw, except the hotel servants. We had to stay there some time, for the canoes were in no hurry to follow us, and at last stuck hopelessly in the custom-house until we went back to liberate them. There was nothing to do, nothing to see. We had good meals, which was a great matter; but that was all.
I'd a married her and found out afterwards that her mind was like a little paper windmill stuck up on the gatepost with a shingle nail only she saved me the trouble. Uh course, I was some sore over the deal for awhile; but I made up my mind long ago that Spikes was the only one in the bunch that had any sympathy coming.
There he felt confident of falling in with some of the free-trading community who would put us across to Holland or even to Dunkerque, where they were in force and recognised. I, on the other hand, stuck out for the longer journey right through England to the south coast, whence it should be possible to get passage direct to the Islands.
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