When I had the room to myself I spent the time exploring for useful articles. My oft-interrupted search resulted in the discovery of a heap of things in the far corner. After which I was released. On re-entering the camp I did my best to look innocent, though, as luck would have it, I was really the richer by a couple of maps, a compass and some candles!

Gr-gr-gr had returned my weapons to me, and at last I was once more upon my oft-interrupted way toward my goal. Whether I should find Dian at the end of my journey or no I could not even surmise; but I was none the less impatient to be off, for if only the worst lay in store for me I wished to know even the worst at once.

For indeed it is but composed of oft-interrupted thoughts, that entwine themselves with more or less system around two or three subjects. Its object is not to convince; there is nothing it professes to prove. Besides, in life books have by no means the importance that writers and readers claim for them.

There was something very charming in the simplicity of Joyselle's pleasure in seeing his boyhood's friends, and something almost ludicrous in his perfectly obvious joy in their homage. Looking down at him in his oft-interrupted progress, Brigit told herself that things must turn out all right.

The looks that went round at the conclusion of his disjointed and oft-interrupted story, expressed something more than consternation. "There is nothing supernatural about King's disappearance," said Tullis sharply. "That's all nonsense.

"It's made to be well shaken, like a bottle o' bad physic," replied Sam, as he went through the various processes already described, before sitting down to finish his oft-interrupted meal. "Do you always take your dinner in that uncomfortable way?" asked Gertie, sitting down on the chest and looking earnestly into the manly countenance of her friend.

They had packed the precious blue dishes in a barrel with hay, and had brought them safely over all the long way. The stormy sea voyage of two months in a sailing vessel, the oft-interrupted train and boat journey from Quebec to Toronto, the weary jolting of the wagon-trail to the Holland Landing, and the storms of Lake Simcoe the blue dishes, safe in their hay nest, had weathered them all.