Saturday, December 5, 2009

Solo former Imperial officer sat despondently at a sticky table in a dingy bar on Devaron sipping an infe-rior Alderaanian.

"And think of the poor farmer when it doesn't rain all year: if there wasn't an average yearly rainfall of 37 inches in this part of the country all his crops would wither and die. " It all sounded terribly confusing to Milo for he had always had trouble in school with just this subject. "There are still other advantages " continued the child. "For instance if one rat were cornered by nine cats then on the average.
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The talking themselves and did not expect him to keep up his end of it. But he had never expected to enjoy the society of a little girl. Women were bad enough in all conscience but little girls were worse. He detested the way they had of sidling past him timidly with sidewise glances as if they expected him to gobble them up at a mouthful if they ventured to say a word. That was the Avonlea type of well-bred little girl. But this freckled witch was very different and although he found it rather difficult for his slower intelligence to keep up with her brisk mental processes he thought that he "kind of liked her chatter. " So he said as shyly as usual: "Oh you can talk as much as you like. I don't mind. " "Oh I'm so glad. I know you and I are going to get along together fine. It's such a relief to talk when one wants to and not be.
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