Saturday, December 5, 2009

Fiction-I have ascertained that there is a book in the library called The Railway Children by E. Nesbit. I had no further doubt in my own mind-A. B. C. the man who wrote the letters and committed the crimes was Franklin Clarke. " .

Got to make a cup of tea quick!' gasped Nanny almost sagging with relief. Granny Weatherwax was more than bright enough not to ask questions. But you couldn't hurry a good cup of tea. Nanny Ogg jiggled from one foot to the other while the fire was pumped up the small frogs fished out of the water bucket the water boiled the dried leaves.
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Have him there!" said he. "Good dog then! Athelney Jones has gone. We have had an immense display of energy since you left. He has arrested not only friend Thaddeus but the gatekeeper the housekeeper and the Indian servant. We have the place to ourselves but for a sergeant up-stairs. Leave the dog here and come up. " We tied Toby to the hall table and reascended the stairs. The room was as we had left it save that a sheet had been draped over the central figure. A weary-looking police-sergeant reclined in the corner. "Lend me your bull's-eye sergeant " said my companion. "Now tie this bit of card 10 round my neck so as to hang it in front of me. Thank you. Now I must kick off my boots and stockings. -- Just you carry them down with you Watson. .
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