The oak rod flew into a bramble thicket and disappeared. After brushing the dirt from his scratched palms, Tom hunted for his stick. The thorny bushe... discouraged the recovery effort, but the oak branch had become a symbol or at least a souvenir, so he gingerly worked his way through the prickles. About six feet in, completely hidden from the path, he found the oak staff, leaning against a barricaded entrance to an abandoned mine. Prospectors worked these mountains for gold a hundred years. Indeed, she wore skirts that, although not terribly short, were cut to allow her to show off those legs to their best advantage.The first day of class had demonstrated that Mademoiselle Sylvia, as she preferred to be called, was able to gain everyone's attention, and to also divert it to the subject when she wanted. She faced the class, she sat behind her desk, she stood behind her podium. However, when she turned and wrote on the blackboard, a barely suppressed groan went through the entire. More

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