So I think we'd better stay outside and run no risk of surprise.

The Yankees might come back." "That's so.

You'll grow up into a man with a heap of sense, George.
I've got real news, and I was waiting for a chance to send it through to Stonewall Jackson.

Billy! Billy!" A small boy, not more than twelve, but clothed fully, darted from the inside of the house.

He was well set up for his age, and his face was keen and eager.
"This is Billy Pomeroy, my oldest son," said Cousin Eliza Pomeroy, with a swelling of maternal pride.