Strict, strong Stephen Stringer snared six sickly silky snakes.
Swan swam over the sea; swim, swan, swim; swan swam back again; well swum swan.
Six thick thistle sticks.
Flesh of freshly fried flying fish.
Give Grimes Jim’s great gilt gig whip.
IN THE ADIRONDACKS.
It was the last week of July, and the guests of a certain hotel, located amidst the pine and balsam of the famed Adirondack wilderness, were thrown into a flutter of excitement.
It had been steadily raining for three days and nights, and now that the fourth day was nearing its close a golden light appeared in the west. The mirror-like surface of the lake before the hotel rapidly revealed the many shades of crimson red and deep gold, while fleecy clouds of pink and white merged into deeper tints.