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Question
Mahendra calls ghosts or spirits a figment of the imagination. What happens to him on a full-moon night?
Solution
One night, Mahendra was woken up from his sleep by a low moan close to the window near his bed. Initially, he thought it was a cat running after mice. However, the sound was too guttural for a cat. Mahendra resisted the curiosity of looking outside the window but when the noise became louder, he could not resist the temptation. When he looked outside, he saw a dark cloudy form clutching a bundle. He broke into a cold sweat and fell back on the pillow. When he recovered from this ghastly experience, he concluded that it must have been some trick that his subconscious mind had played on him. When he got up in the morning, the terrible memory of the previous night had faded from his memory. However, when Iswaran confirmed the presence of the female ghost, he immediately resigned from his post and decided to leave the ‘haunted place.’
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The bound travellers rose to their feet, Easton with the Same slow smile on his face. “I can’t deny a petition for tobacco,” he said, lightly. “It’s the one friend of the unfortunate. Good-bye, Miss Fairchild. Duty calls, you know.” He held out his hand for a farewell. “It’s too bad you are not going East,” she said, reclothing herself with manner and style. “But you must go on to Leavenworth, I suppose?” “Yes,” said Easton, “I must go on to Leavenworth.”
The two men sidled down the aisle into the smoker. The two passengers in a seat near by had heard most of the conversation. Said one of them: “That marshal’s a good sort of chap. Some of these Western fellows are all right.” “Pretty young to hold an office like that, isn’t he?” asked the other. “Young!” exclaimed the first speaker, “why—Oh! didn’t you catch on? Say—did you ever know an officer to handcuff a prisoner to his right hand?”
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Why is it ironic when Fairchild says, “people always misunderstand things and remain stupid —”?
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As they passed down the aisle of the coach the only vacant seat offered was a reversed one facing the attractive young woman. Here the linked couple seated themselves. The young woman’s glance fell upon them with a distant, swift disinterest; then with a lovely smile brightening her countenance and a tender pink tingeing her rounded cheeks, she held out a little gray-gloved hand. When she spoke her voice, full, sweet, and deliberate, proclaimed that its owner was accustomed to speak and be heard.
“Well, Mr. Easton, if you will make me speak first, 1 suppose 1 must. Don’t vou ever recognize old friends when you meet them in the West?”
The younger man roused himself sharply at the sound of her voice, seemed to struggle with a slight embarrassment which he threw off instantly, and then clasped her fingers with his left hand.
He slightly raised his right hand, bound at the wrist by the shining “bracelet” to the left one of his companion.
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“Women’s hearts are not half so hard as men’s!”
Joe saw, by a quick intuition, that his resolute bearing h«d impressed his wife and he answered quickly, and with real indignation, “Be that as it may, every woman at the funeral turned her eyes steadily from the sick child’s face, and when the cart went off with her dead mother, hurried away, and left her alone in that old hut, with the sun not an hour in the sky.”
“Where were John and Kate?” asked Mrs. Thompson.
“Farmer Jones tossed John into his wagon, and drove off. Katie went home with Mrs. Ellis; but nobody wanted the poor sick one. ‘Send her to the poorhouse,’ was the cry.”
“Why didn’t you let her go, then. What did you bring her here for?”
“She can’t walk to the poorhouse,” said Joe; “somebody’s arms must carry her, and mine are strong enough for that task.”
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“Jane,” said the wheelwright, with an impressiveness of tone that greatly subdued his wife, “I read in the Bible sometimes, and find much said about little children. How the Savior rebuked the disciples who would not receive them; how he took them up in his arms, and blessed them; and how he said that ‘whosoever gave them even a cup of cold water should not go unrewarded.’ Now, it is a small thing for us to keep this poor motherless little one for a single night; to be kind to her for a single night; to make her life comfortable for a single night.”
The voice of the strong, rough man shook, and he turned his head away, so that the moisture in his eyes might not be seen. Mrs. Thompson did not answer, but a soft feeling crept into her heart.
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Each Friday morning the whole school spent the pre-recess period in writing their Weekly Review. This was one of the Old Man’s pet schemes; and one about which he would brook no interference. Each child would review the events of his school week in his own words, in his own way; he was free to comment, to criticize, to agree or disagree, with any person, subject or method, as long as it was in some way associated with the school …..
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