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Updated: June 11, 2025
Sir Hokus shaded his eyes and stared curiously at the long lane stretching invitingly ahead of them. "Well, anyway, we're out of the forest and Pokes, and maybe we'll meet someone who will tell us about the Scarecrow. Come on!" cried Dorothy gaily. "I think we're on the right track this time." The afternoon went pleasantly for the three travelers.
"That's funny," commented Ethel Blue. "He almost never looks at any flowers or plants. He just pokes his stick in and that's all." "He offered us a considerable sum for the property but we told him that you had an option on it, Mrs. Smith, and we explained that we couldn't give title anyway." "Did his interest seem to fail?"
And generosity from that kind of man is no more of a virtue than the foolhardiness of a child who pokes his finger into the candle, not knowing the properties of the thing he has to deal with. But anything like generosity from you, from a man reared as you were reared, is, I freely confess, a little beyond my comprehension." "Yes; it is a transformation, is it not?
I rather distrust a man who never swears, or savagely kicks the foot-stool, or pokes the fire with unnecessary violence. Without some outlet, the anger caused by the ever-occurring troubles of life is apt to rankle and fester within.
The Pokes stumbled this way and that, and all went well until they rushed into a company of Pokes who were playing croquet. The slowness with which they raised their mallets fascinated Dorothy, and she stopped to watch them in spite of herself. "Don't stop! Sing!" growled the Cowardly Lion in the middle of a line.
The Cowardly Lion was gulping down his share with closed eyes, and both, I am very sorry to say, forgot even to thank Sir Hokus. "Are you perchance a damsel in distress?" Quite startled, Dorothy looked up from her bowl and saw the Knight regarding her wistfully. "She's in Pokes, and that's the same thing," said the Cowardly Lion without opening his eyes.
He knows that in the water among the roots of the old tree lie shiners and soap minnows, creek chubs and soft-shelled "crawdads," the kind that make good bait for the black bass down in the river. He pokes around vigorously with his stick and sends them scurrying into his short seine.
They knows well that it's too hot at first, an' that they must have a deal o' patience; but afore long some o' the young uns can't hold on, so they steps up somewhat desperate like, and pokes their snouts in. Of course they pulls them out pretty sharp with a yell, and sit down to rub their noses for a bit longer.
As the Chinamen were looking out, expecting to see their mangled limbs and the fragments of their boats scattered far and wide, the jolly tars, unharmed, were climbing up the side of the junk, and a few pokes with their cutlasses soon sent every mandarin and seaman leaping overboard. Scarcely had the victors time to look about them, than the prize was found to be on fire, fore and aft.
"We've left the human smell thar, an' even after all this time it's likely to drive away any prowlin' bear or panther that pokes his nose in." Long Jim was quite right. Their snug nest, like that of a squirrel in the side of a tree, had not been disturbed.
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