Seven Sundays in the week--to us, anyway.

We hadn't anything to do, and time hung heavy.

Seven Sundays, and all of them broken up at one time or another, in the day or in the night, by a few hours of the awful storm of fire and thunder and iron.
At first we used to shin for the holes a good deal faster than we did afterwards.

The first time, I forgot the children, and Maria fetched them both along.

When she was all safe in the cave she fainted.