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"But don't you think she'd like to see me just a little while, Miss Wren?" the girl inquired, her hand caressing the sleek head of one of the big hounds as she spoke. Hounds were other objects of Miss Wren's disfavor.
Yes ... it had. Give a few more minutes for laggards, and then Three melancholy and disappointed dogs were left in the Manor Garden, while Miles swung down the drive, past the church, and into the road that led to Wren's End. What a morning it was! The whole world seemed to have put on its Sunday frock.
Is it not a spike with a green light at the end of it?" "My wand, my wand!" cried the fairy, beside herself with grief. "Just about sunset I was asleep in an empty wren's nest, and when I woke up my wand was gone!" Then the little Jackdaw, being moon-struck, and not knowing the value of things, flew up to the nest and brought back the fairy her wand. "Oh!" she cried, "you have saved my life!"
On the 7th of July, 1878, I found a Wren's nest amongst some of the wildest rocks in the Island; the hinder part of the nest was wedged into a small crevice in the rock very firmly, the nest projecting and apparently only just stuck against the face of the rock.
It was after three, noted Private Mullins, of that first relief, when from the rear door of the major's quarters there emerged two forms in feminine garb, and, there being no hindering fences, away they hastened in the dim starlight, past Wren's, Cutler's, Westervelt's, and Truman's quarters until they were swallowed up in the general gloom about Lieutenant Blakely's.
But Grandfather Mole only shook his head impatiently, as if to say that digging a hole wouldn't help him this time. Meanwhile some of Rusty Wren's friends had come up to see what was going on. And talking in low tones, so that they wouldn't attract the cat's attention, they agreed with him that there was some mystery about Grandfather Mole. But not one of them knew what it could be.
Tony had himself been to Wren's End he was told, but he was only one at the time, and beyond a feeling that he liked the name and that it was a very green place his ideas about it were hazy. Sometimes he wished it had been called "Wren St. Endwyn's," but after mature reflection he decided it was but a poor imitation of the real thing, so he kept the two names separate in his mind.
Here was opportunity for horsemen, hitherto denied, and Stout called on Brewster and his score of troopers, who for hours had been towing their tired steeds at the rear of column. "Mount and push ahead!" said he. "You are Wren's own men. It is fitting you should get there first." "Won't the captain ride with us now?" asked the nearest sergeant. "Not if it robs a man of his mount," was the answer.
Thence I to the Three Tuns Tavern, by Charing Cross, and there dined with W. Pen, Sir J. Minnes, and Commissioner Middleton; and as merry as my mind could be, that hath so much trouble upon it at home. And thence to White Hall, and there staid in Mr. Wren's chamber with him, reading over my draught of a letter, which Mr.
"He doesn't know how to get home." The Worm-eating Warbler asked why Grandfather Mole didn't dig a new hole for himself, if he had lost the one he used when he came up in the garden. And when he saw that Rusty Wren couldn't answer his question the Worm-eating Warbler said he had his doubts as to Rusty Wren's ideas about Grandfather Mole.
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