The Little Mule that Could “Clip‚ clop‚ clip‚ clop‚ such a reassuring sound”‚ Jenny thought as she pulled the plow through Mr. Dawkins’ fields. Jenny could feel the soil beneath her hooves‚ and the steady beat of her lively heart. Behind her was Dave‚ the small black boy‚ who was tasked to lead Jenny through the fields. But she already knew the way; she had done it‚ day in and day out‚ for as long as she could remember. From the time she was a little mule‚ she remembered her parents had done this
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a time until I found the initials N.Y.S.S stamped in that prominent royal blue colour on an envelope. A million thoughts were rushing through my head making my mind spin‚ as I began to open the letter. This is it‚ my dreams have become a reality‚ I am now part of the New York Space Station. I never finished reading the letter‚ as soon as the words ‘you have been accepted’ caught my eye i knew that I now stood the chance to go down in history. “Claire Menzies the first female astronaut”‚ I imagine
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the whole book. Without the help of my group I would not been able to figure out the plot or the whole point of the story. Also throughout the story the main character change his view on the world around him‚ I however did not pick this up and when we went to go and discuss the section they helped my out. Without them I would have never been able to figure out the point in the story. During these few weeks I learned what my abilities where as a group participant. I found out that I was a good sharer
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or recognition or being singular. Superannuated retired because of age or infirmity. Unnerving make someone lose courage or confidence. Veneer Covering something with a nice piece of wood About the Author: Bill Bryson’s a popular travel writer whose hiking stories combine human interest with a sense of interest and humor. Bryson has spent more than 20 years in England‚ touring the countryside and writing bestselling books. In 1995‚ Bryson returned the the UAS in New Hampshire near the appalachian trail
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STORY 1: “The Lamp at Noon” by Sinclair Ross The story “The Lamp at Noon” takes place in a dried up‚ unfertile desert. Dust storms are causing health problems for the family. The setting is crucial to create the dark and sad atmosphere of the story because it was all about the fact that there is something wrong with the place that it dried out their farm which caused them to suffer. Which also creates a mood of being dull‚ lonely and monotonous. The couple‚ Ellen and Paul‚ has been arguing about
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Alyvia Daly English lll October 18‚ 2013 Period 5 The Twins Liv was sitting in a chair staring at an aged iron gate with the words of the asylum’s name “Forquer Asylum” embedded in the iron work. She seemed to be staring at something else though‚ something only she could see. You could tell she was in deep thought and whatever it was trouble her greatly just by the way her face was scrunched up like if she was mad. “Liv…” called Dr. Grey. Liv turned not realizing Dr. Grey had been
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The Clod and the Pebble "Love seeketh not itself to please‚ Nor for itself hath any care‚ But for another gives its ease‚ And builds a heaven in hell’s despair." So sung a little Clod of Clay‚ Trodden with the cattle’s feet‚ But a Pebble of the brook Warbled out these metres meet: "Love seeketh only Self to please‚ To bind another to its delight‚ Joys in another’s loss of ease‚ And builds a hell in heaven’s despite." Corrupted By The Sun I saw her. In a miniscule moment. Her
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investigated and found the problem. A 10 years old boy was standing on the side of the road with a huge hand painted sign which said “Radar Trap Ahead.” A little more investigative work led the officer to the boy’s accomplice: another boy about 100 yards beyond the radar trap with a
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The Chapel I sat in was lined with wooden pews‚ unadorned as befitted the sombre mood. Inside the atmosphere was oppressive and a faint mustiness hung in the air. I was vaguely aware of the murmurs and rustlings of the other mourners as they took their seats. I dabbed my eyes with the hanker-chief as the deeply moving and melancholy chords of “Amazing Grace” began to filter through the stony walls. Ahead of the pews the mahogany casket was polished to a glossy shine and adorned with pale pink
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Chapter 1 Mom’s word stuck me like a lightning bolt. I was so shocked that I forgot to give reaction to what I had just heard. Maybe because a part of me still believed this couldn’t be true. Well‚ was it a joke? I looked back into mom’s eyes. She was still looking at me with pitiful look in her eyes‚ which showed me sympathy. I wanted to ask her if she was joking‚ but then I realised it would be hard to bear the pain if she said no. Instead I wanted for her to say something else or give a reaction
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