The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. "Look at it!" he felt like screaming. “I am afraid—I really think that one of us ought to go with you,” he said. Losing his presence of mind, Jack quitted his hold, and dropped upon the frame. He saw, without any particular regret, that this year he would have to forego the junket; but there would be ample compensation in the study of these queer youngsters. “You pushed the wheel from my hand.
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