Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 23, 2025
Koswell said he had fixed you, and that you were having a bad half hour with the president." "Where was this?" "In the library. I was in an alcove, and they didn't see me. I was busy reading some poetry by Longfellow fine thing went like this " "Never mind. Chop out the poetry now, Songbird. What more did they say?" "Nothing.
"Great Scott! it's a fire and at Hope Seminary!" broke out the youth. "It looks to me as if the whole place might burn down!" "What! A fire at Hope!" cried Songbird, and his words attracted the attention of all the others in the observatory. He, too, took a look through the glasses, and one after another the remaining students did the same.
"Go on, please!" came from the girls, and the poet of Putnam Hall continued: "I love this land of liberty From mountains down to flowing sea, I love its cities and its plains, Its valleys and its rocky chains, I'm glad to know that we are free, And so forever may we be!" "Hurrah, Songbird, you ought to have that put to music," cried Dick.
"Maybe it got in that beefsteak we had this morning," put in Sam, with a wink. "I thought that steak was rather tough." "Shoo yourself with such a joke, Sam," came from Fred Garrison. "Have you really lost your shoe, Tubby, dear?" sang out Songbird Powell, the so-styled "poet" of the academy. And then he started to sing: "Rub a dub dub! One shoe on the Tubb! Where can the other one be?
And then the would-be poet continued: "The wind is dead, there is no breeze To stir the bushes or the trees. Full well I know, as here I stand, That Solitude commands the land!" "Good! Fine! Immense! Great!" cried Sam enthusiastically. "Hurrah for Solitude!" "Why, Mr. Powell, you are a real poet," said one of the girls gravely. And this pleased Songbird greatly.
"You make me feel as if there was another snake in my shirt." "The best thing to do is to forget the snakes," put in Songbird Powell. "Let us row around to the other side of the lake." All were willing, and soon the vicinity was left far behind. Then they came to where a fair sized brook flowed into Bass Lake, and here they came to anchor and began to fish, while Powell took several photographs.
"Well, er not exactly, Tom," muttered John Powell, otherwise known as Songbird because of his numerous efforts to compose what he called poetry. "But I have been thinking up a few rhymes." "When are you going to get out that book of poetry?" "What book is that, Tom?" "Why, as if you didn't know!
"Not but what I'd rather stay here than go to Brill for the celebration!" and he looked fondly at Nellie. "What's the matter with my driving the car?" suggested Songbird, who was well able to perform that service. "You've both had a whack at it; it seems to me it's my turn now."
On the other hand, while Dick and Tom could row well, they had pulled together but twice since coming to Brill. "You've got your work cut out for you!" shouted Songbird. "But never mind. Go in and win!" For the first quarter of a mile the two row-boats kept close together. Occasionally one would forge ahead a few inches, but the other would speedily overtake it.
"It was bad enough to give you a cramp!" finished up Tom, who had come up. "Beautiful weather for drying clothes or taking pictures," he went on. "By the way, I haven't used my new camera yet. I must get it out as soon as the sun shines again." "And I must get out my camera," said Songbird. "I have a five by seven and I hope to take some very nice pictures when we get down among the islands."
Word Of The Day
Others Looking