United States or Greenland ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Daddy-man it's too much." Pemrose Lorry clasped her hands. Her blue-star eyes, blue at the moment as the tiny blossoms of the meadow star-grass for which some fairy has captured a sky-beam, were suddenly wet.
We boomed it," came the laughing reply, as Jack at a Pinch, second fiddle now, marched off with his companions. "Who is he?" Pemrose caught wildly at the arm of Stud, who was wishing that he and not those patronizing big boys had caught the Scoutmaster's cue and created airdrawn aëroplanes by the corps. "Do you do you know who he is; that biggest that gaudiest one among them?" "Yes! No-o!
Oh-h! who's doing it answering?" breathed Pemrose Lorry, feeling thrown into the shade with her Thunder Bird; which wasn't altogether bad for her, either. "Oh! it's you, is it? Where's the whistle the bird-caller's whistle?" "Here. Look!"
Warming equally to comfort and excitement again, they clamored Pemrose and Una for a sight of that raft of gnats' eggs, so cunningly formed and glued together, minute egg to egg, hundreds of them, that it was a regular lifeboat no storm could sink it, and pressure only temporarily.
"Melancholy so blooming thick that you could almost sup its sorrow with a spoon, eh?" "It's a regular cave of despair." The lonely trill of the feathered hermit was in Jessie's answering note. "That sad voice of water, a cascade a stream far in, which nobody ever saw!" "I'd give worlds to see it!" said Pemrose. "So would I!" Stud's voice was pitched high.
Oh-h! even if it hurts him terribly we'll have to lift him to a dry spot." It was Pemrose Lorry who spoke. Together with her Camp Fire sisters she had taken some training in first aid. And one agonizing accident which she had been told how to deal with was the case of a knee-cap displaced or broken.
Almost as airy and flute-like, though not as liquidly sweet and soaring, were bird-notes which answered back from within the very halo of Pemrose herself; and she turned, with her heart in her throat, to see who who had the thrush in her pocket. Surely, it was the sweetest grace ever said. A duet between a hermit thrush and a Camp Fire Girl! Pinnacle vespers!
This is what the bleeding heart of Pemrose told her over and over again within the next twenty-four hours, and after that, too! True, she had robbed him of his oars and a dance, or had been responsible for the trick!
The young head of Pemrose Lorry queened it in the darkness, with a pride which made of old Greylock, at that moment, the world's throne. "But how how are we to live through the next hundred hours the next four days the time the Thunder Bird will take to travel?"
In her young blood, as in Andrew's, was the extravagant excitement of the whole experiment, this first step in the ladder of demonstration which was by and by to reach the moon lending to all an unearthly touch. "The the Man Killer trail! Why! that's one place where we haven't searched yet!" A moping Pemrose suddenly awoke.
Word Of The Day