I could see a man and a boy some distance away, pitching hay into a horse drawn wagon.
Are you blaming a little boy for what his mother did?
You are the sweetest boy in the world.
You think the boy might not be mine?
But although the Munchkin was hardly tall enough to come to Zeb's shoulder he was so strong and clever that he laid the boy three times on his back with apparent ease.
The boy just turned six.
A Colorado farm boy was found cowering from his father's wrath in the loft of a barn while a retarded Illinois ten year old was lured to the house of a local registered sex offender after being told his parents had sold him to the man.
One little boy chose "The Horse."
As she passed a neighbor boy, he waved at her, his two missing front teeth displayed in a sweet smile.
Boy, the fight ain't half out of her.
For a moment the boy did not know what he meant by this question.
"What are those holes up there?" enquired the boy, pointing to some openings that appeared near the top of the dome.
She opened the door to find a little Mexican boy holding a package.
The announcement went on to describe what the young boy was wearing and listed a tip line phone number to call with information.
The boy was startled and his eyes were big.
If the boy had been his, how would his good intentions have made her husband feel?
He grabbed the child under his arm and after dropping the now limp boy on the other side, climbed back over.
They'd like to search the LeBlanc's place on the off chance our boy broke in there too and maybe got careless.
"Boy or girl?" he asked, genuinely happy about Damian and Sofia's first child.
"None of us has had breakfast," said the boy; "and in a time of danger like this it's foolish to talk about eating."
He had not gone far when he met a larger boy, who was blowing a whistle.
Corn, my boy, for fodder; corn for fodder.
The photo was fuzzy and the boy was young, but the eyes - she was sure it was Bordeaux.
The boy was jubilant to be with a dad he loved and away from an overly strict mom.
The story related the successful return of a young boy kidnapped from his San Francisco home.
The boy was meant for greatness-- and darkness.
While uneasy, Damian suspected Jenn was seasoned enough to handle the boy for a month.
The boy was only four years old, and the girl was not yet six.
What about this boy Allen who called yesterday?
Sunday began with a lost boy who we located in a local forest but was found by the time we called in the tip.
Fortunately, the boy ran off but the police, who were following Bryce based on our earlier tip, photographed his attempted abduction.
Howie was able to view the abduction, though it was particularly brutal as the young boy was knocked unconscious and bleeding.
Betsy lined up two likely abductions and she was anxious to get started, Quinn had already performed his part, setting his apparatus appropriately for a rural Iowa location where a twelve year old boy had gone missing.
If our boy made his getaway at more than five or ten miles an hour, you can bet your ass he was on one of these babies.
"Excuse me, ma'am," the boy called out in a quiet, nervous voice.
She set down the bird-cage and poked the boy with her parasol.
Neither the boy nor the girl spoke again for some minutes.
Also, turning her head, she found that she could see the boy beside her, who had until now remained as still and silent as she herself.
"If that is so," said the boy, "how could he do that wonderful trick with the nine tiny piglets?"
The others agreed readily to this sensible suggestion, and at once the boy began to harness Jim to the buggy.
"They seem like open-work," remarked the boy, gazing intently.
One moment Dorothy sat beside them with the kitten in her lap, and a moment later the horse, the piglets, the Wizard and the boy were all that remained in the underground prison.
"Gid-dap!" cried the boy, and at the word Jim slowly trotted into the courtyard and drew the buggy along the jewelled driveway to the great entrance of the royal palace.
With one hand the little boy clung to his sister's arm, and with the other he held his primer.
Then she told me that she had a beautiful story about a little boy which she was sure I should like better than "The Scarlet Letter."
He said he was the little boy in the poem, and that the girl's name was Sally, and more which I have forgotten.
One day a dear little baby-boy was born.
But believe me, my dear boy, there is nothing stronger than those two: patience and time, they will do it all.
"Oh, what a boy I was!" he said aloud bitterly.
It was a portrait, painted in bright colors by Gerard, of the son borne to Napoleon by the daughter of the Emperor of Austria, the boy whom for some reason everyone called "The King of Rome."
A very pretty curly-headed boy with a look of the Christ in the Sistine Madonna was depicted playing at stick and ball.
The handsome boy adjutant with the long hair sighed deeply without removing his hand from his hat and galloped back to where men were being slaughtered.
"Isn't it fine, eh, Uncle Ignat?" said the boy, suddenly beginning to strike the keyboard with both hands.
He took the boy on his knee, played with him, and looked round at Princess Mary.
With a softened, happy, timid look she watched the boy she loved in the arms of the man she loved.
Tessa admitted that the boy belonged to her husband.
A farm boy gone city.
The little boy was unconscious.
Over the three day period, we located one lost boy, identified two girls as runaways and fingered a true abduction.
"Gid-dap!" called the boy, again.
"Are we only half way up?" enquired the boy, in a discouraged tone.
"Will it hurt?" asked the boy, in a voice that trembled a little.
This boy loved pictures.
"Poison, my boy!" cried King Astyages, much alarmed.
Boy must be very careful.
"It could be a girl and a boy?" she asked hopefully.
"Come on, boy," she said to the bay as she turned to the wagon.
The young boy was frightened and groggy but appeared unharmed.
Don't forget the Burton boy is alive because of us.
In another case, a missing twelve year old boy turned out to be a runaway.
Cooms doted on the boy who seemed to return his affection.
Thankfully, the boy was located before any major harm was done.
When they finally interrogated the boy he let enough kitties out of the sack for the detectives put it all together.
It began with the Rhode Island boy who disappeared last September.
Your boy Dan Brennan got me into the Federal exit and entrance records at the Canada border!
Our boy John Luke Grasso drives a motor home!
Last night we ran a session on the little boy Betsy texted us about.
"He's safe for now," Dusty said, his own mind going to the boy who'd been a vamp for a day.
Getting around in front, so that she could look inside, the girl saw a boy curled up on the seat, fast asleep.
Then the boy picked up the reins, shook them, and said "Gid-dap!"
"Yes. Uncle Bill Hugson married your Uncle Henry's wife's sister; so we must be second cousins," said the boy, in an amused tone.
The boy flicked the big, boney horse with his whip and looked thoughtful.
Dorothy grabbed fast hold of the buggy top and the boy did the same.
"He eats enough to get fat, I'm sure," said the boy, gravely.
The boy took his seat beside her and said: "Gid-dap Jim."
Then the boy returned to one of the upper rooms, and in spite of the hardness of the glass bench was soon deep in slumberland.
So the boy went willingly upon the errand, and by the time he had returned Dorothy was awake.
So he placed Dorothy upon one side of him and the boy upon the other and set a lantern upon each of their heads.
Then, having tied the wooden creature securely, the boy buckled the strap and tossed his prisoner into the buggy.
"I'll use the king," said the boy, and pulled his prisoner out of the buggy.
"Well, I'll climb up when I get back, then," said the boy, with a laugh.
"I will," said the boy, and let himself slide over the edge.
The boy was no longer sleepy, but full of energy and excitement.
"What sort of place is this?" asked the boy, trying to see more clearly through the gloom.
"Was Ozma once a boy?" asked Zeb, wonderingly.
The boy looked around him with wondering eyes.
This made Zeb laugh, in turn, and the boy felt comforted to find that Ozma laughed as merrily at her weeping subject as she had at him.
"It's lucky we got here, though," said the boy; and Jim thought of the dark cave, and agreed with him.
That last evening was so delightful that the boy will never forget it as long as he lives.
The big boy looked at him and blew it again.
"Well, it's a bargain," said the boy; and he gave the whistle to Benjamin, and took the pennies.
You are only a very little boy, and you will learn a great deal as you grow bigger.
In France there once lived a famous man who was known as the Marquis de Lafayette. When he was a little boy his mother called him Gilbert.
The boy played on the grass near by.
The boy felt very much ashamed.
They said that a bright boy like George would not long be a common sailor.
He agreed to take the boy with him and teach him how to be a good sailor.
Near the top of a hill he saw a little shepherd boy who was lying on the ground while a flock of sheep and lambs were grazing around him.
As he came nearer he saw that the boy held a charred stick in his hand, with which he was drawing something on a flat rock.
"What is your name, my boy?" he said.
Bondone was surprised when Cimabue offered to take his little boy to Florence and teach him to be a great painter.
It was that of a boy carrying a basket of ripe red cherries.
For if the boy had been as well painted as the cherries, the birds would have been afraid to come near him.
A long time ago there lived, in Pennsylvania, a little boy whose name was Benjamin West.
When Andrew Jackson was a little boy he lived with his mother in South Carolina.
Andrew Jackson was then a tall white-haired boy, thirteen years old.
The slim, tall boy seemed to grow taller, as he answered, "I'll not be the servant of any Englishman that ever lived."
He drew his sword to hit the boy with its flat side.
So it was decided that the boy should go to some school where he might be prepared for college.
Then, suddenly, an awkward half-grown boy who sat right in front of the master's desk turned squarely around and whispered to Tommy Jones, three desks away.
Everybody was astonished, for that boy was the best scholar in the school, and he had never been known to break a rule.
Elihu Burritt was a poor boy who was determined to learn.
He was a very little boy, but before he was three years old he could read quite well.
"How is this, my dear boy?" asked the king.
So it was arranged that the boy should travel with a small company of merchants who were going to the same place.
"Well, boy, what have you got?" asked one of the robbers, as he pulled Otanes from his horse.
He had never heard of a boy with so much money as that.
Soon another came up and said, "My boy, do you happen to have any gold about you?"
Once when a boy gave him a pair of doves which he had snared, St. Francis had a nest made for them, and the mother bird laid her eggs in it.
Every boy has heard of Robinson Crusoe.
"I wonder what can have happened to the boy," he said; and he opened the door and looked out.
_Dearest Carl; You are a good boy to send me all your wages, for now I can pay the rent and buy some warm clothing for your little sister.
The boy stammered and did not know what to say.
"Have courage, my boy," said the king.
What boy or girl has not heard the story of King Robert Brace and the spider?
My errand boy is sick to- day, and there is no one else to send.
"Of course she will be glad to know that," said the boy; "but she has no time to bother about me to-night."
As he came out of the forest he saw a little boy by the roadside, who seemed to be watching for some one.
"Well, my boy," said the king, "are you looking for your father?"
The boy got up at once, and sat behind the king.
The horse cantered briskly along, and king and boy were soon quite well acquainted.
"They say that King Henry always has a number of men with him," said the boy; "how shall I know which is he?"
All the men seemed amused when they saw the boy, and as they rode up, they greeted the king by taking off their hats.
"Well, my boy," said King Henry, "which do you think is the king?"
We would get on our toboggan, a boy would give us a shove, and off we went!
One does not need to read "A Boy I Knew" to understand him--the most generous, sweet-natured boy I ever knew, a good friend in all sorts of weather, who traces the footprints of love in the life of dogs as well as in that of his fellowmen.
Puer is boy in Latin, and Mutter is mother in German.
Cedric is my little boy, he is named for Lord Fauntleroy.
What was the name of the little boy who fell in love with the beautiful star?
I tried to imagine my gentle poet when he was a school-boy, and I wondered if it was in Andover he learned the songs of the birds and the secrets of the shy little woodland children.
When I came home teacher read to me "The School-boy," for it is not in our print.
He is a great, strong boy now, and he will soon need a man to take care of him; he is really too big for a lady to manage.
This little boy could speak two or three languages before he lost his hearing through sickness, and he is now only about five years old.
One of the girls taught her to dance the polka, and a little boy showed her his rabbits and spelled their names for her.
She wanted to show it to the little boy in the seat behind us.
A curly-headed little boy was writing: I have a large ball.
One day, while she was out walking with her mother and Mr. Anagnos, a boy threw a torpedo, which startled Mrs. Keller.
This morning teacher and I sat by the window and we saw a little boy walking on the sidewalk.
Little boy did love his calf.
However, I should never have broken a horse or bull and taken him to board for any work he might do for me, for fear I should become a horseman or a herdsman merely; and if society seems to be the gainer by so doing, are we certain that what is one man's gain is not another's loss, and that the stable-boy has equal cause with his master to be satisfied?
Almost every New England boy among my contemporaries shouldered a fowling-piece between the ages of ten and fourteen; and his hunting and fishing grounds were not limited, like the preserves of an English nobleman, but were more boundless even than those of a savage.
We read that the traveller asked the boy if the swamp before him had a hard bottom.
The boy replied that it had.
But presently the traveller's horse sank in up to the girths, and he observed to the boy, "I thought you said that this bog had a hard bottom."
So it is with the bogs and quicksands of society; but he is an old boy that knows it.
He had left Moscow when Boris was a boy of fourteen, and had quite forgotten him, but in his usual impulsive and hearty way he took Boris by the hand with a friendly smile.
"Well, my boy, you'll get along wherever you go--foot or horse--that I'll warrant," said Shinshin, patting him on the shoulder and taking his feet off the sofa.
Natasha, who sat opposite, was looking at Boris as girls of thirteen look at the boy they are in love with and have just kissed for the first time.
No, my dear boy," he continued, "you and your generals won't get on against Buonaparte; you'll have to call in the French, so that birds of a feather may fight together.
How can I go and apologize like a little boy asking forgiveness?
Now tell me, my dear boy, are you serving in the Horse Guards? asked the old man, scrutinizing Anatole closely and intently.
So, my dear boy, you wish to serve the Tsar and the country?
Remember, dear boy," and he drew Pierre's arm downwards, "it is simply a misunderstanding.
Let us write her a letter at once, and she'll come here and all will be explained, or else, my dear boy, let me tell you it's quite likely you'll have to suffer for it.
Mademoiselle Bourienne, too, seemed passionately fond of the boy, and Princess Mary often deprived herself to give her friend the pleasure of dandling the little angel--as she called her nephew--and playing with him.
It was the second night that neither of them had slept, watching the boy who was in a high fever.
At last he saw him: the rosy boy had tossed about till he lay across the bed with his head lower than the pillow, and was smacking his lips in his sleep and breathing evenly.
Prince Andrew was as glad to find the boy like that, as if he had already lost him.
Well, my boy, the old prince went on, addressing his son and patting Pierre on the shoulder.
He decided that he must attend to his son's education by finding a tutor and putting the boy in his charge, then he ought to retire from the service and go abroad, and see England, Switzerland and Italy.
At the last post station before Otradnoe he gave the driver a three-ruble tip, and on arriving he ran breathlessly, like a boy, up the steps of his home.
Petya was a big handsome boy of thirteen, merry, witty, and mischievous, with a voice that was already breaking.
But you know, my dear boy, it's a pity you got excited!
"No, my dear boy" (the count, too, felt embarrassed.
In evident fear of refusal, like a boy asking for permission to get on a horse, he begged to be allowed to swim across the river before the Emperor's eyes.
The boy, curly- headed like his mother and glowing with health, sat on his knee, and Prince Andrew began telling him the story of Bluebeard, but fell into a reverie without finishing the story.
What meant still more to him was that he sought and did not find in himself the former tenderness for his son which he had hoped to reawaken by caressing the boy and taking him on his knee.
My boy is growing up and rejoices in life, in which like everybody else he will deceive or be deceived.
A little serf boy, seeing Prince Andrew, ran into the house.
A young round-faced officer, quite a boy still and evidently only just out of the Cadet College, who was zealously commanding the two guns entrusted to him, addressed Pierre sternly.
"Yes, yes: go, dear boy, and have a look," he would say to one or another of those about him; or, "No, don't, we'd better wait!"
He saw the frightened and then infuriated face of the dragoon who dealt the blow, the look of silent, timid reproach that boy in the fur-lined coat had turned upon him.
The youngest child, a boy of about seven, who wore an overcoat and an immense cap evidently not his own, was crying in his old nurse's arms.
"Do you know, dear boy," began the governor's wife with a serious expression on her kind little face, "that really would be the match for you: would you like me to arrange it?"
But, my dear boy, among other things you are too attentive to the other, the blonde.
My dear boy, what a way to look at it!
The countess caressed the boy, and the old count came in and welcomed the princess.
Beside him rode an hussar, with a boy in a tattered French uniform and blue cap behind him on the crupper of his horse.
The boy held on to the hussar with cold, red hands, and raising his eyebrows gazed about him with surprise.
This was the French drummer boy captured that morning.
A Cossack dismounted, lifted the boy down, and took him to Denisov.
The boy, thrusting his cold hands into his pockets and lifting his eyebrows, looked at Denisov in affright, but in spite of an evident desire to say all he knew gave confused answers, merely assenting to everything Denisov asked him.
Petya, rapidly turning his head, looked now at the drummer boy, now at Denisov, now at the esaul, and now at the French in the village and along the road, trying not to miss anything of importance.
He looked round at the captive drummer boy and felt a pang in his heart.
"I might ask," he thought, "but they'll say: 'He's a boy himself and so he pities the boy.'
May I call in that boy who was taken prisoner and give him something to eat?...
The sound of bare feet splashing through the mud was heard in the darkness, and the drummer boy came to the door.
There were many things Petya wanted to say to the drummer boy, but did not dare to.
"Oh, what can I do for him?" he thought, and opening the door he let the boy pass in first.
When the boy had entered the hut, Petya sat down at a distance from him, considering it beneath his dignity to pay attention to him.
The arrival of Dolokhov diverted Petya's attention from the drummer boy, to whom Denisov had had some mutton and vodka given, and whom he had had dressed in a Russian coat so that he might be kept with their band and not sent away with the other prisoners.
Why had such a splendid boy, so full of life, to die?
At that moment of emotional tenderness young Nicholas' face, which resembled his father's, affected Pierre so much that when he had kissed the boy he got up quickly, took out his handkerchief, and went to the window.
Never, he repeated in a trembling voice like a boy asking for forgiveness.
Little Andrew, her eldest boy, imitating his mother, followed her on tiptoe.
Countess Mary moved away from the door and took the boy back to the nursery.
She was nursing her boy when the sound of Pierre's sleigh was heard at the front door, and the old nurse--knowing how to please her mistress-- entered the room inaudibly but hurriedly and with a beaming face.
From broken remarks about Natasha and his father, from the emotion with which Pierre spoke of that dead father, and from the careful, reverent tenderness with which Natasha spoke of him, the boy, who was only just beginning to guess what love is, derived the notion that his father had loved Natasha and when dying had left her to his friend.
But the father whom the boy did not remember appeared to him a divinity who could not be pictured, and of whom he never thought without a swelling heart and tears of sadness and rapture.
So the boy also was happy that Pierre had arrived.
Dessalles whispered to the boy to come downstairs.
"Like my father?" asked the boy, flushing crimson and looking up at Pierre with bright, ecstatic eyes.
The curly- headed, delicate boy sat with shining eyes unnoticed in a corner, starting every now and then and muttering something to himself, and evidently experiencing a new and powerful emotion as he turned his curly head, with his thin neck exposed by his turn-down collar, toward the place where Pierre sat.
The boy with the thin neck stretching out from the turn-down collar-- whom everyone had forgotten--gazed at Pierre with even greater and more rapturous joy.
A wonderful boy, but I am dreadfully afraid for him.
(The boy was afraid of the dark and they could not cure him of it.)
We were checking the mare and she bolted, knocking the stable boy down.
The man, or boy, couldn't have been more than twenty, yet his steps were as sure as the hands that whirled her around the room.
My, aren't you the night owl tonight - the boy who has been dancing with me half the night.
Señor Medena was the first boy in his family.
I know him when he was boy and I love him then.
He's not a plow boy, and he will finish his schooling.
As soon as the mother entered the house, he pocketed the phone, scaled the fence at a low corner, crossed to the surprised boy in a few steps, and placed a rag over his face.
The boy was the son of a dirt-poor single mother.
The boy laughed cheerfully and jumped out.
"I don't know," answered the boy, looking around him curiously.
Two hundred years ago there lived in Boston a little boy whose name was Benjamin Franklin.
One does not need to read "A Boy I Knew" to understand him--the most generous, sweet-natured boy I ever knew, a good friend in all sorts of weather, who traces the footprints of love in the life of dogs as well as in that of his fellowmen.
One day he would order his camp bed to be set up in the glass gallery, another day he remained on the couch or on the lounge chair in the drawing room and dozed there without undressing, while--instead of Mademoiselle Bourienne--a serf boy read to him.
They were the yard porter Ignat, and the page boy Mishka, Vasilich's grandson who had stayed in Moscow with his grandfather.
Nicholas also noticed that look and, as if understanding it, flushed with pleasure and began to kiss the boy with good natured playfulness.
What a delightful boy he was!
Boy, did that sound familiar.
He had an idea of how his father felt, fearing he would have to watch his little boy grow and not being able to be the provider.
Do you want a boy or a girl, Dad?
The boy who sat beside him was his son.
But they continued to fall, all together, and the boy and girl had no difficulty in remaining upon the seat, just as they were before.