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(wow) Words Of Wonders Level 1244 Answers
There is no name more beloved to young readers around the world than BURT L. STANDISH.
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Over the years, his stories of Frank Merriwell have inspired thousands of boys who want to succeed in athletics.
Without preaching, Mr. Standish proves the proof of the house as the only way to live an honest life. This is why Merriwell’s stories are very popular.
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Frank Merriwell spoke. He was standing on the deck of a steamer bound for the coast of Morocco. Next to him was his old friend and former classmate, Ephraim Gallup of Vermont.
“A pleasant place, I must say. It’s not quite like the United States. But it’s a honey of more beautiful scenery than the places we stopped in South Africa, by God.”
“Big catfish, Frank, me too! Why, it was terrible, the things that happened to us in Africa. No, I don’t want anything to happen to me, with the rubber!”
As old readers of Frank Merriwell stories know, Frank was now on a big trip to different parts of the world. At the death of his parents, he had inherited a lot of money, and before his patron settled down, he wanted to make several trips. Fränk had to bring a professor and a friend with him. Presently the professor, Horace Scotch, was not with the youth, but Ephraim was, and both had just come from the lower coast of Africa, where they had passed many of the incidents connected with “Frank Merriwell’s Hunting Trip.” .
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“Look, Ephraim!” He went to Frank. “Tangier, lies like a snow-white pearl on the blue shore of the Mediterranean. It is a sight that quickens the blood.”
“It looks pretty neat from here,” admitted the Vermonter; “But in your own statement about it, ‘Cordin’, it’s not looking so good when we get there.
“That is true; but it is the way for us to a strange land—the land of strange people, strange customs, the land of innumerable wonders and surprises. Besides, I am tired of the sea, and I want to go again come ashore.”
“By the way! I don’t blame you for that. But I go to the shore where the decent people are. I’ve seen a lot of black people in them.
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“We are certainly full of them; but I don’t want to go home without visiting Morocco.
At last the steamer began to slow, and finally stopped, the anchor chains shaking as the anchors dropped.
“Put everything away!” Ephraim shouted, grabbing Frank’s arm. “You look there! Can that group attack the steamer, what do they want?”
Some of the boats drew off from the shore, and behind them a crowd of ragged Arabs, half pasty, washed in the water, moving towards the ship, waving their arms wildly, and shouting strangely.
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“It’s actually one of the weirdest things we see in this country,” Frank said quietly.
The boats approached the steamers, and the passengers were quickly thrown in by the boatmen. Frank and Ephraim manage to board the same boat, and they have to pay for their trip immediately after leaving the steamer.
The boats moved toward a crowd of terracotta-colored people, some of whom were submerged up to their thighs in water.
As soon as he approached the non-human population, he attacked the boats himself. The gang of shoulders arrested the travelers as if they were to be executed without delay.
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He slapped the old Arab on the back with the flat of his hand, knocking the man on the spot.
But ancient Arabia should not be confused in such a way. He got up dripping wet and embraced the excited young man.
Seeing the disaster approaching, Frank lost no time in climbing on the shoulders of the mulatto, who had just got out of the boat, where he was sitting in a comfortable position, shaking his hat and shouting:
“Stand, O Black Pirut!” cried Ephraim, who was blinded by the rain. “Keep your hands off me, or you’ll—wa-ow!”
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The boat went overboard, drowning the boatswain and the Yankee boy, where there was a general quarrel, to the amusement of the other passengers.
“You hang!” He screamed, stood up and shook his fist at the startled Arab. “Wait until we’re on dry land, creature! I will correct you!”
“I think, Ephraim,” said Francis, “that you ought to make such a racket about such a thing. The Lord was pleased to take you ashore, to foul the water for the boats to reach. all Passengers will land. like this.”
The Vermont boy looked around, seeing that Frank was telling the truth. Women were carried ashore in chairs, and male passengers put their hands around the necks and shoulders of the Arabs.
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“Wal, why didn’t they tell one of the liquidators that they were Artur!” Ephraim looked confused and confused. “If they want to kill Hull on us, they’re kidding.”
When he was ashore, Frank paid for the transportation of himself and Ephraim, an old friend, who asked the Vermonter for payment.
Investigations revealed that there was a European hotel in town, and Frank was given a guide to pilot them there.
Ephraim complained as they went on their way. It was dripping water, and he looked funny, but the people on the street didn’t laugh at him. He was received unchanged, indifferently, as if he were an insect of little importance. The men turned away from the boys, and the women ignored them, and the children fled in fear.
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“A very kind man,” laughed Frank. “If you look at how they behave, you would think we must be bloody barbarians. “
Almost everyone in the streets was covered with some kind of long, white wool, with a large hood, usually just worn over the head, so that the whole city presented the appearance of a monastery of monks.Dominicans.
Some of these heavily burdened men had a dream, light, slow, and quiet, in their eyes, as if their thoughts were far away; Some sat next to walls, or in the corners of houses, motionless and without eyes, like the restless people of the “Arabian Nights”.
On the way to the hotel, they passed many narrow, narrow streets, small white houses, without windows and small middle doors, through which it was not easy to enter.
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In many streets there was nothing to see but the whiteness of the walls and the blue sky.
Almost every road was littered with vegetables, feathers, cheetahs, bones, and sometimes dead cats and dogs.
At long intervals, groups of Arab children were seen playing or reciting verses from the Koran into nasendrons.
The smell of garlic, burnt aloe, benzoin, fish and something without a name assaulted the boys’ noses here and there.
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At one end was a well, around which was a crowd of Arabs and negroes working to draw water in various vessels.
On the other side of the square, sticky women were sitting on the ground, selling bread.
In the little place there was an almost bare branch, a rich Moor, a Jew, the workers of the legion, whose houses were close together; There are many translators and brokers.
At this moment, a sticky girl suddenly separated from the two men who appeared to be her guardians, gave a small cry of joy, ran to the boys, and throwing her arms around Merivale’s neck, cried:
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Cracks of surprise and anger came from the men who were with the girl. Quickly drawing short, curved swords from under their clothes, they mocked the boys.
“Go away, you Christmas dogs!” roared one, breaking his sword,
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