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Updated: May 29, 2025
Again and again he heard that monster voice moaning and shrieking over the forest. Never had the rage of storm filled him with the uneasiness of to-night. At last the mystery of it was solved for him. The wind came and went each time in a great moaning, half shrieking sound: B-r-r-r-r e-e-e-e aw-w-w-w! It was like a shock to him; and yet, he was not a superstitious man. No, he was not that.
He who is not accustomed to the sight of this horror, rising from under the ground, cannot suppress a shiver. B-r-r-r-r! Let us leave the beast alone. Chance, a poor stand-by, sometimes contrives very well. At the beginning of the month of August, the children call me to the far side of the enclosure, rejoicing in a find which they have made under the rosemary- bushes.
"Really, 'Arry," I replied, "you wrong me and, by-the-way, excuse me for calling you 'Arry. It is the most appropriate name I can think of at the moment." "Call me what you blooming please," he answered. "But remember you can't soft-soap me into believing you like me. B-r-r-r-r!" he added, shivering. "It's beastly cold in here. What you been doing storing ice?"
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